Uni (A Larry Stylinson Story) ✅

Happier

Louis' Point of View

Oh my god. Today had been an absolute nightmare. Between having to be carried around from class to class from hobbling on crutches after my doctor's appointment, I felt more embarrassed and incapable than a toddler who just shit their pants. To make matters worse, I spent the whole day in constant fear that I would run into Liam again--and I really had no idea how I was going to handle it if it actually happened. 

I was currently sitting in my room watching a Shameless on Netflix trying to recover what had just happened in the past 24 hours. I really needed to get my God Damn shit together.Today, after barely making it home on crutches, I sat down at my desk and made a list of my semester goals. Goals that didn't involve Liam or Harry or Zayn or anyone. Just me.

First off, I wanted to do well in my advanced music class. It was a miracle that the professor let me into the class today. I knew it would be an extremely tough course, but I knew I could do well if I really applied myself, so I started marking down the upcoming assignments and making a revision schedule. I did the same for my other four courses and then took out my books to get ahead on my revising for the week to come. 

For some reason, revising and organizing my coursework always relaxed me. Even in the depths of my self harm, it was the one thing I could still focus all my energy on. It made me feel normal and successful and goal-oriented--and it made me feel in control, at least for a little while.

My perfectionist attitude, though, was part of what got me into this mess, according to my therapists at the rehab clinic. They warned me to be careful not to overdo it and obsess with grades like I have in the past. But hey, the semester was just getting started. I had every right to plan and get a head start on studying.

Halfway through my revision, though, I began to feel a stabbing pain in my stomach and I realized I hadn't eaten all day. I knew I needed a real meal, but there was no way I was going back outside and hobbling on my crutches to get one. Instead, I chewed on Harry's granola bar and put a cup of noodles in the microwave. I really didn't want to be eating anything-- all I really wanted to do was starve and punish myself. But I knew that my body would take longer to heal without the proper nutrition, so I decided to just fuck it and be a gross fat ass. It's not like I had anything to lose at this point.

Now, as I sat watching Netflix, my stomach continued to growl, despite the snacks that I had just eaten. Frustrated, I rolled over, looking at the clock. It was only 8pm. I was trying to pass the time until 10pm when I was going to meet Harry and Niall, but it felt like it was taking forever. 

I really shouldn't have agreed to drinking with them, but I knew myself well enough to know that tonight could easily end with me crying hysterically with slit wrists on the floor after the Liam encounter. So I took Harry's invite as an opportunity to get out of my solitary prison— I mean dorm— even if it just meant going down the hall.

God, my bloody stomach wouldn't stop rumbling. I really had no food left to eat in my room and I wasn't about to go outside tonight. Hands shaking, I took out my phone and began to text Harry, cringing as I did it.

"Hey, Harry," I typed. "I'm really sorry to bother you but would you mind picking me up something to eat? I'll pay you back." Then, I went back to watching Netflix, but I guess it was starting to get boring because the next thing I knew, I was fast asleep.... ***********"Hey, Lou," I heard Harry whisper. He was standing over me with a large paper bag in his hand, smiling.