One Direction // One Shots

Narry :: High & Low (Part 2)

Harry woke up with dried tears stick to his face, mostly his cheeks. His vision was useless, blocked by the sunlight shining through his open curtains. He groaned and sat up, his arms shaking, weak, as he pushed himself onto his bum. He used his shaky hands to rub his forehead as if trying to rub away the headache.

14 days. It had been 14 days- 2 whole weeks since Niall had died, and Harry was doing absolutely horrible. He hadn't done anything but lay in bed, so he looked and smelled awful. He didn't eat, hardly slept, and spent most of his time petting Niall's fake cat, Harold, and crying. He was hardly even living.

Louis came in about an hour after Harry had woken up. Harry hadn't moved a bit, busying himself with staring at the wall opposite of him. Louis had a bowl of soup in his hands, which was currently burning his palms. He placed it on the table next to Harry, shaking his hands against the air to cold them off. He smiled at the side of Harry's face. "Morning, Harry."

Harry tried not to be bitter as he said "Hi", his voice rough from his throat being so dry. Louis made him sit up a bit more, placing his pillows upright so he could lean back. He handed Harry a cup of tea that Harry hadn't seen him bring in, rubbing his back.

"Will you eat this, Harry?" Louis asked after Harry had taken the tea into his hands. He grabbed the bowl of soup and held it in front of Harry. Harry took one look at in and immediately shook his head. He wondered if he could even keep the tea down.

"Please?" Louis asked. He set the bowl on Harry's lap, taking the tea Harry had sipped. Harry didn't try to take it back, even though he wanted it back. Louis sighed. "Even just a few bites? You haven't eaten in weeks."

Harry thought for a moment. Just a few bites. He could keep a few bites of soup down, right? He could lay here with Louis until he felt well enough, then he could go shower or something. As much as he didn't want to, as much as he just wanted to be alone and cry, he didn't want the boys to worry. So he nodded.

Louis smiled, something Harry hasn't seen himself do in a while. Louis picked up a spoon that Harry also hadn't seen and handed it to him. Louis noticed Harry's hands shaking as he took the silverware from Louis' hand, but he didn't comment on it.

It took Harry ten minutes just to eat five bites of the soup. His weak hands were shaking, and his stomach wasn't very settled, so he ate slow. It didn't feel like it was going to come up, though, and that was all Harry was really worried about right then.

"Feel better?" Louis asked. He took the soup from Harry when he realized it was handed to him. It was no longer hot, but he still didn't want to hold it. He turned to place the sound on the night stand again. When he looked back at Harry, Harry nodded.

"I'm gonna go take a shower." Harry muttered. He stood up slowly, his legs wobbly. Louis stood up as well, wrapping his arm around Harry's waist to help him there. Harry felt helpless- useless, because he couldn't even stand properly.

----

Harry did manage to keep his breakfast- (maybe it was lunch- dinner, even. Harry didn't pay attention to time anymore, only when the sun came up and when it set.)- down. He brushed his teeth and combed his hair, which was tangled in knots. Overall, it took him two hours.

Liam was sitting at the end of his bed when Harry came out of the bathroom, fully dressed with a hat over his wet hair. "Hi, Harry."

The boys had avoided called Harry "Haz" or "Hazza" like they usually would, because Niall always used those nicknames for him. He only ever said "Harry" when he was mad ("You know what, Harry, maybe we shouldn't even get married!").

"Hi." Harry sat next to Liam, his stiff hands in his lap. After a moment, Liam handed him a cupcake, smiling lightly.

"Uh, James's birthday," Liam said as Harry took the cupcake slowly. It was red velvet, with thick, white icing.

"James?" Harry asked. He tried to recall the date, but he couldn't. It was still winter, right? Or had it turned to spring in the two weeks he'd shut down?

"He works for our Management, now." Liam said. Harry took a small bite, mostly of the icing. It felt like gravel against his tongue. "They hired him a few days ago."

"Oh." Harry said simply. He didn't really care. What would James want this job for, anyways? All he did was manage a boy-band with one dead member and one that may as well be dead.

"We're going out later." Liam said, standing up. Harry took another small bite, this time only catching a little bit of icing. Still, it felt heavy in his mouth. "Would you like to come with us?"

Harry shook his head. Liam leaned down, placing a kiss on the curly-haired boy's forehead. "I love you, Harry. You're like a brother to me. I just don't want to see you hurt."

Harry didn't know why Liam was speaking so softly. His voice was just above a whisper. Harry just nodded, and Liam stood there for a few more moments, his hand on Harry's shoulder. He left eventually, and Harry threw away his hardly-eaten cupcake.

He wished he'd told Liam he loved him, too.

*

It was dark, and the boys were still out wherever they'd gone. Harry walked for an hour to the graveyard Niall was buried in, a sunflower in his hand, Harold tucked under his arm.

He discovered it was Spring.

"Hi, Niall." Harry said, sitting down next to Niall's grave. He placed the sunflower on it, smiling at how bright it shined in the moonlight. It reminded Harry of Niall's hair. He cringed.

"I'm really sorry I haven't been coming to visit you." Harry leaned against the tall, sturdy gravestone, brushing his hand over it's cold, marble surface. "I've been doing . . . nothing. I have no excuse. I'm really sorry, Niall."

Harry was silent for a few more moments. He felt awful. "I-I basically killed you, Ni. If we hadn't been arguing . . . I'm such a prick. I haven't even been visiting you. That's the least I can do, you know? I'm sorry, Niall, I'm so sorry. You probably hate me."

Harry was crying, now, and he was hoping he wouldn't do so. It was pointless to think he wouldn't, though. "I miss you so much, baby. I-I want you back. I've considered . . . being with you again, but the boys are so worried . . . I wish you could guide me, Niall. I wish you could tell me what to do. I'm so lost. What's wrong with me? I'm hardly even making sense."

Harry wiped some tears away, sniffling. "I wanted to have a life with you, Ni. W-we're a young couple to be getting married, nineteen and twenty, but that's what we wanted. I wanted to grow up with you. I wanted to adopt children with you. I wanted . . . I still want all of that, Niall. I still want to be with you."

Harry looked down, his vision blurry with his overflowing tears. "It hurts so much, being without you. I'm hurt and lost and there's no way to find me. I'm not going to move on, but I'm not sure what to do. Should I just watch the boys live their lives? Should I be with you? I don't want to kill myself, Niall, because I know I deserve this pain. I know . . . I know I deserve it."

Harry slid down, settling himself in a comfortable position. He pulled the bottle of pills out of his pocket, along with the flask of vodka. His tears got heavier, but he knew he was ready to do this. He knew he had to.

"But I have to be with you," Harry cried. "I'm sorry, Niall. Maybe I'll go to Hell, but I'll always know you're safe in Heaven."

Harry poured the pills into his hand, careful not to drop any on Niall's grave. He shoved them all in his mouth, downing them with the vodka.

"Don't worry," Harry said, pushing the empty bottle and flask away. "I left the boys a letter. I know they'll be okay without me."

Harry brought the stuffed cat into his hands, holding it gently. He smiled at it. "I-I brought Harold, Niall. I told Louis to keep it safe in the letter. I told him to take it when he found me, and to not let anyone take it away."

Harry felt the world spinning around him. He knew he didn't have much time left to say what he needed. He had to make this quick. "If I do go to Hell, Niall, I want you to know I love you and that I want you to keep being happy with God. I know he'll take good care of you, and one day, the boys will be up there with you."

Harry's eyes were slipping shut, and he suddenly imagined someone pointing a gun to his face, demanding if he had 'any last words'. "I love you."