Solace

Chapter Four

It was like a painful pleasure to Louis. The physical pain outweighed the emotional pain and it felt good. It lifted of all the pressure, and the pain was so relieving. Louis cut deep again, feeling as though he was dealing with his life, even though he wasn't. He cut deep, like he would do to a slice of cake, the metal feeling absolutely amazing against his warm skin, forming permanent scars in his mind.

He felt relieved, the damn emotional pain gone. It felt so intense, blood pouring down his wrists and arm, meeting with the sleeve of his hoodie, dripping down on to his trousers, dripping down on to the carpet, forming a stain.

All of a sudden, he dropped the blade. It landed in a different spot than where the stains already were so another pool of blood was staining the carpet.

His stomach clenched so suddenly that his reaction was surprising. His blood-free hand reached up to his neck and then throat where he put two of his fingers inside, wanting to be sick. Why? Louis didn't know why.

Because he felt like it, maybe?

Even though it was stupid o'clock in the morning, Louis rushed down to the bathroom, making so much noise that he was sure he was going to get told off for it. He locked the door behind him as quickly as possible and lifted up the toilet seat, emptying his insides out.

Horrible, yellow fluid came out of his mouth and the sight as well as the smell of blood from his wrist weren't making it any better.

When he did feel like he could stand straight on his feet, he did so, splashing his face with cold water.

He placed his wrist under the water and cleaned the blood out. Sighing to himself, he walked back to his room, his head slightly dizzy.

*

The next morning, he surprisingly woke up in time for breakfast. He dressed himself in sweatpants and a black t-shirt plus a black hoodie, covering up the scars from the night before and walked downstairs to eat.

He sat down after picking up a piece of buttered toast; he wasn't at all hungry but he really didn't want to have Janet on his back for 'not feeding himself properly' because honestly, anorexia was the last thing he wanted to have on his medical record.

His fingers picked on the piece, slowly putting them in his mouth.

But what he didn't even know himself was that his eyes were wandering, scanning for a mop of curls. He was looking for Harry.

He saw all the workers sat at one table in the far end but he didn't see Harry anywhere. But why was Louis looking for him?

He didn't know- he didn't have any idea, because he didn't realise that he was doing so until Janet met his gaze. He quickly switched to look at his half-eaten piece of toast and for the rest of breakfast thought about why that Harry kid was making him feel different.

After breakfast, he decided to take a walk along the corridors of the institute. It had been raining for the past few hours and black clouds were everywhere meaning that hardly any light could enter the building.

Some lights were on, lighting up the corridors so Louis could see where he was going.

But then, all of the lights went off. Louis jumped and grabbed his chest, scared to death. After he realised that it was a power cut and not a ghost (which he still wasn't fully convinced that it wasn't true) who tried to scare Louis to make him run away, he sat down on the carpeted floor, his back against some random wall.

He pulled the sleeves of his hoodie up so that his scars were exposed to the breezy air flowing through the halls.

Louis began picking on the scars, one by one, ripping the skin apart. It hurt, no denial there but he carried on doing it because he was bored.

He couldn't see if blood was pouring out, nor could he feel so, so he just assumed that everything was alright.

Everything was alright until a moment.

"Tomlinson!" He heard and stopped picking on the scars right away.

A torch was the source of light, and holding the torch was no-one else but Janet.

"Go back to your room." She said sternly.

Louis stood up and rolled his eyes. But what he didn't know was that the boy he was thinking about him was right next to Janet. Louis just couldn't see him.

"You're way too harsh." He heard a croaky voice and his head snapped in its' direction.

Trying to act cool, he spotted Harry wearing a beanie, standing behind Janet, and walked away in the direction of his room.

I hate her.

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