Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Seriously, remember when i told you in the beginning that this story is just one big trigger warning.
I don't want to hear "you should have put a trigger warning" or whatever. You were warned in the beginning.
Harry felt numb as he woke up slowly, staring at the ceiling that his eyes were focused on all night as Liam-
Please don't think about it.
He emotionlessly looked towards his arms that were still tied but the rope looked to be not as tight, allowing him to twist and pull his hands free. He sat up carefully, wincing as his legs ached and cracked. He glanced down to see the crimson colored mess between his legs, making him shut them immediately so he didn't have to look.
His eyelashes fluttered as he tried to speak, only hearing hoarse sounds escape his lips. His throat was raw from both the alcohol he consumed and his screams from when-
Stop thinking about it.
Harry clenched his jaw and searched the room for a sign that his clothes were discarded on the floor. He sighed when he saw his jeans, sliding gradually off the bed and getting to his feet. He bent down, feeling self conscious which made him turn to check that no one was around him before grabbing his briefs and pulling them up his legs, and then his jeans as well. He grabbed his shirt and pulled it over his head, checking his surroundings for his shoes to which he found under the bed.
Once he was fully dressed, he moved his hair to cover his face and exited the room. He walked out towards the front door, not bothering to check if Liam was passed out on the couch or something. He grabbed the handle to the front door, using the other hand to unlock it before walking out and slamming it shut behind him.
He walked down the stairs and through the front door with fists by his sides. It pissed him off how happy people were when it was so early in the morning. And the looks they gave him. He could feel their eyes on him. Or maybe he was imagining it.
Either way, he grabbed onto his keys and entered his building, going straight to his apartment.
Once inside, he broke down with each step that he took towards the bathroom. He tied his hair back into a sloppy bun as he undressed blindly and turned on the shower, slumping down onto the floor.
He pulled his legs to his chest with his head hidden in his knees that he was holding tightly with his arms. With the burning hot water beating against his arms and knees, he left out piercing screams as if that would take away the pain from the night before.
You're a fucking failure. You could have stopped him if you weren't so fucking stupid. You knew he did something to your drink and you still drank it.
