I Bet You Won't • Larry

6. I Bet You Won't Love Me Again

A/N:
I'm just going to start this.
❌ TRIGGER WARNING ❌

•••

It has been exactly 24 hours since the two boys have spoken. Louis knows this, because yesterday afternoon at 12:56 pm, Harry got home. And at 12:59 pm, Harry read the note. Louis knows this because he heard the box open and close, and the sound of Harry's boots as he ran to his room, and the sound of sobbing as Harry cried into his pillow. It broke every bone in Louis' body.

It was currently 12:56 pm, and they had not spoken a word to each other since the event yesterday. Harry has not left his room, and Louis knows that because he stayed up all night, waiting at his open door for some sign of Harry. Louis spent the whole night silently crying, and Harry spent the whole night wishing that Louis would come into his room. Little did he know, Louis wished the exact same thing.

Harry had not eaten any lunch, dinner, or breakfast. Louis had tried opening the door to his room, but it was locked. They had never gotten in this bad of a fight before, even over worse things than this. Louis was heartbroken. Harry, however, was broken in more ways than just his heart. Little did Louis know that his best friend was breaking himself.

•••

Harry sighed. It had been a year, a year to the day, since he had done this. A year. Could he do it? Was he strong enough to put the object down?

Harry remembered the look on Louis' face as he ran into his room after he said what he did yesterday. Why did he say that? Why was he so god damn stupid? Harry sobbed, the hot tears falling onto his day-old jeans that he had yet to take off.

Harry held the object in his hand. "Screw the year," Harry thought as he let the cold, metal blade slice across his skin, letting the red liquid drip out onto the napkin he had skillfully placed onto the carpet of his closet.

Harry almost winced at the feeling, but soon remembered how nice it felt. He made three more slices on his left arm, then four on his right one. He sighed and wiped the blade, then placed it in a spot where Louis could never find it.

Harry picked up the napkin from the ground and ripped it in half. One went on his right arm, and the other wrapped around his left. He winced at the burning pain, but knew that he had to pay for the pain he put Louis through. He can't have Louis feeling terrible when he felt nothing. He just couldn't.

The doorknob jiggled, and Harry almost had a heart attack, before remembering that he had locked it. He heard Louis press his head against the door in defeat, and then he heard small sobs. He wanted to run out there, tell Louis how sorry he was, to hug him, but he couldn't let Louis see him like this. He has been doing this since his junior year of high school, and he stopped last year. No one knows, but him. It's his dirty little secret.

Harry wants to forgive Louis. He already has, really, just not to his face. He doesn't care that Louis pushed him, and he doesn't care (as much as he did) that Louis said what he said. He cares that Louis is hurt, and he wants to hurt as well. He hurt Louis. He has to hurt himself in return.

Louis' sobs could still be heard, before he heard his little feet padding away from the door. Harry subconciously presses the napkin down harder, and yelps at his mistake. He lets out a loud sob, before laying down on the bed and
letting the darkness consume him.

•••

Louis is broken, to say the least. It had been 27 hours since they have spoken, to the minute. He just doesn't understand why Harry won't forgive him. Louis forgave Harry for what he said yesterday, he never had to in the first place. He would always forgive Harry, no matter what he did. He loved Harry. He still does.