The Rain's Going to Wash Away What I Believe In

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(LOUIS POV) **warning strong graphic scene that may be disturbing or triggering to some readers. **

I felt dizzy. Harry had gone to sleep and I was in and out of that state. He had pulled me into his bed, his arms curled around my waist, his nose in the crook of my neck.

Something didn't feel right. I got up, moving quietly. I didn't even feel my movement. I was drifting really.

I went into the bathroom and closed the door. The scene was eerie and familiar. I saw a razor out the corner of my eye, shining, sending silent pleads.

I walked over to it and picked it up, turning it over in my hand for a moment.

I rolled up my sleeve, looking at the tiny thin lines that were scattered across it. People always thought that they were from fights that I had been in.

Thank God I had an excuse.

The blade gleamed in the light as I pressed it to the skin. I held my breath for a moment, but there was no going back.

I didn't even know why I wanted this. Where did this impulse even come from? Haven't I been here before?

But you deserve this...

I slid the blade across, feeling my breath hitch as I dug it deeper. The familiar sting clawed its way up to the surface of my skin, as thick red blood gathered in a thin line, daring to bead out and pour over the edge. I moved to another area and struck again, and again. The blood trickled down my arm and dripped to the floor, forming little splatter marks against the tile. My nostrils were filled with the metallic smell. I craved it.

I looked at the mess on my arm and inwardly cursed at myself again.

You stupid bastard you didn't have to actually do it. You're better than that, stronger than that..

But wait, I wasn't. I DESERVED this. I needed this. I wasn't any better than the shit seeping into the sewers and collecting at the bottom. I was scum. This was what I needed. This was my realization.

These conflicting thoughts, where do they lead me? What side is actually right?

What had I done?

I held it inside for so long, I hid all the pain, I rolled with the punches. What happened? When had I become so vulnerable? It was a silly question really. I had seen it all along. The thin cracks in my smiles, the way my eyes burned every time someone would say something hurtful, God I was so stupid! How could I expect to live a lie? This wasn't a movie, a fantasy where everything ends happily. This was reality, and my reality is hell.

All the raw emotion was scraped from the bottom of the bucket, thinning out at the top until it was dumped into the mainstream, singing its song, pulling on heart chords, twisting and turning until the pain was too real, until you needed to run away from it. You could never run away from it. It rings in your ears, it infects your mind. It HURTS.

I looked up at the window. The sky was set with a colour too complex, too perfect, too beautiful to describe. The beam from the moonlight broke through clouds, giving true meaning to a silver lining. It was the type of moment that was meant to be shared with someone. I have it to share with my shadow, with the loneliness that is my other half. With the darkness I was allowing myself to become.

I started to cry. Deep sobs that racked my body. I felt myself fall to the floor, not really landing. I was so confused! This isn't a life I'm meant to lead. I want so much more, but I don't know how to get it.

My sobs broke through my chest, and I started coughing, tears falling onto my wrists, mixing with the blood.

I was shaking uncontrollably. Then I heard someone calling my name.

"LOU?"

Harry?

"LOU WAKE UP!"

I gasped and lurched forward. My head was pounding and darkness flooded my sight. I couldn't see anything but dark shadows and the outlines of furniture.

It was just a dream?

"Oh my God are you alright?" Harry was breathing hard and was holding me so tight, I thought he was going to break my ribs.

"You just started crying and shaking, asking 'What have I done?' And you kept fumbling your hands. What the hell was that all about?"

I just sat there and cried. I leaned into his strong arms and let them hold me in safety and comfort.

I felt my soul sink so low, like never before. I don't think I'd ever felt that way before. Not in so long.

I always managed to be so careful, so strong in front of others. I never gave up my insecurities like that.

Never.

"Shhhh, it's alright now," he cooed soothingly, stroking my hair that was now damp with tears.

He wiped my eyes so softly, and kissed the top of my head. I let a quiet whimper slip past my lips.

I had let down my walls, all my barriers. I could hear my chains rattle as they fell from my heart in one swift drop. They sunk into the abyss of my soul, waiting for another day.

That night, I gave in. I didn't hold back the tears or the profanities or the constant wails of desperation. I didn't lie and pretend and put on a show. I let him just sit there and hold me until I was too worn to cry any longer. My eyes were swollen with tears, and I felt something drop onto my head.

It was wet.

I looked up at him and felt another drop land on my face and roll down my cheeks.

"I'll cry for you. I'll suffer for you. I'll die for you if that's what was necessary. But don't let those tears stain your cheeks. You're too beautiful for that." He spoke softly, just above a whisper.

I shook my head.

"Why don't you believe me when I say you're beautiful Louis?"

"Because when you spend your whole life being told otherwise, your heart refuses to believe it."

Beautiful Silent Boy [L.S]Donde viven las historias. Descúbrelo ahora