my best friends brother || h.s ✔

chapter thirty eight

And there I say, for a long time, telling him things and hoping I'll get into his mind this way but nothing was working. I was for sure he's passed out, heavy on drugs and starving himself.

I was crying by this stage. I took the pendant off, sniffing and holding it in my fingertips. I press my lips to it, pulling it away and sliding it through the bottom of the door. "I love you," I whisper. "I'm not surrendering," I sit there.

"Come on," I knock. "Please,"

I sigh and want to bang the door down but I didn't have the strength for that so I stand up. I step away, huffing. I then hear the chain being dragged across the floor and it disappears under the door.

So he's alive. But he doesn't want my help.

I sigh, walking down the hall slowly. A small click made me freeze and shoot my head back to his door. It looked the same, but I walk over there, gripping the handle. "Harry?" I turn the handle and this time, I open the door an inch.

The smell of weed was the first scent I got, then a little bit of sweat, but nothing was compared to the weed. I poke my head in, I see Harry leaning on his bed frame on the floor, knees propped up, still wearing what he was at the party.

His head was dropped, pendant in his hand and a cigarette in his fingertips that was about to fall out. Faint white lines on his desk and his credit card, a small bag of white power there too.

My stomach drops to the floor. I slide my way in and close the door, locking it again. I drop to my knees, cupping his jaw. He looked and felt so weak, it made me feel sick. "Harry," I whisper, lifting his chin up slowly.

His eyes were so fucking red, puffy and his eyes were drained, hardly open, his skin was cold and pale. He looked dead. He had dried blood around his nose, and his hair had grown a lot but it was desperate for a wash. I let a tear roll down my cheek instantly.

I take the cigarette out of his hand, putting it in the ashtray on the floor that had a hundred cigarette butt's in it. He stares at me, not like that but just zones out and stares. I tuck hair behind his ear and he drops his legs, his hands fall to the floor and his body slouches.

I didn't know what to think.

His body tilts forwards and I catch him. "Harry," I cry, sniffing. "C'mon baby," I sniff.

He leans his forehead on my shoulder. He slowly shakes his head, I almost didn't notice it. I hear him breathing very faintly. I hold his head and swing my leg over his, straddling his lap.

He doesn't hug me back but I hug him, rubbing his head. I then feel very cold hands reach out and place his hands lazily on my hips and even though it's the slightest movement, it makes me feel warm because he's moving.

"Lex," he rasps softly.

Fuck. I missed his voice.

"I'm here," I whisper.

I kiss his head, shuffling closer to him so my crotch was on his. He suddenly finds energy and hugs me back, like I was the one who gave him the energy. He just hugs me. "I'm so sorry baby," I whisper. "It's not your fault," I shake my head.

He doesn't say anything, he felt heavy leaning on me like this. I run my hand through his hair, it needed to be washed. He sniffles.

He suddenly breaks down.

He sobs and I feel a tear land on my shoulder which makes my heart sink and he hugs me tight. "I'm deep in and I'm scared, I—I didn't mean for it to get this bad," he sobs.

Fuck me, I was gonna cry wasn't I?

"Don't leave me again, I—I'm a mess, I—I can fix it though, just don't leave me—" he rasps like he hasn't spoken in three years.