You're My Only Direction

Chapter Eight

            Harry’s POV

            If one more person asks me if I want them to fluff my pillow I swear to god…

            “Hey Harry!” Niall greeted me brightly as he eyed my pillow.

            “Don’t you dare try and fluff my god damn pillow, Niall. It doesn’t need fluffing,” I said, pointing an accusing finger.

            “What I hadn’t even been thinking of doing such a thing,” Niall replied with wide innocent eyes.

            “Sure,” I replied, rolling my eyes.

            “So how are you feeling?” He asked as he plopped down near my feet at the end of the tour bus couch.

            “I feel fine. I don’t understand why you lads are acting so strangely…it’s not a big deal, and I feel perfectly fine,” I huffed. “I’d do anything to get off this damned couch.”

            “Not a big deal?” Louis demanded from the doorway. I hadn’t noticed his presence until he started speaking. “Harry, you tried to kill yourself! To me that’s a huge motherfucking deal!”

            “I was delirious from pain; I didn’t know what I was doing. It was an accident!” I insisted.

            “That’s bullshit, Harry, and you know it,” Louis spat.

            “It’s not…I swear I didn’t…” I stammered. I stopped myself though because not only the look on Louis’ face but also I was just tired of lying. I haven’t come clean on everything yet, Niall is still the only one who knows about my tumor.

            “You slugged down an entire bottle of pain medication. There is no possible way that was an accident, delirious or not delirious,” Louis said.

            “Louis, just give it a rest, mate,” Niall pleaded.

            “I can’t, not when he’s going to sit there and not take responsibility for his actions and denies that he attempted suicide! It’s not helping him to sit here in denial,” Louis spat.

            “Well your constant badgering isn’t helping him either!” Niall shouted as he jumped to his feet and color flared in his cheeks.

            “You babying him is just as useless!” Louis retorted.

            “AT LEAST I’M NOT BEING AN ASSHOLE!” Niall bellowed.

            Louis shrank back slightly at this; it is extremely rare for Niall to get this heated about something, so whenever this happens all of us boys know we’ve crossed a line.

            Louis sighed and plopped down in front of me on the floor.

            “I’m sorry, Hazza,” he murmured, looking up into my eyes as tears appeared at the corners of his blue ones.

            “It’s fine,” I replied, clenching my jaw and turning away from him. I knew that if he cried then I would cry too. There’s just something about him when he cries that rips my heart in two and I become a puddle of emotion. 

            “No it’s not,” Louis insisted. “Here you are recovering from almost dying and I’m just pushing you away and treating you horribly. I’m so sorry. I’m just scared that…”