He tries to call. He's sent straight to voicemail. He didn't know what he expected, really. Harry thought 16 months with a person was a long time. Thought that meant something. How can you just walk away from something like that so easily? He had seen his best friend go through things like this, and they were both so entirely sad. (Louis and his significant other, anyway). That was a long time ago, though. He doesn't know how Louis would act now. But he knows the first heartbreak is always the hardest.
He debates on calling Niall or Louis. But he doesn't. He doesn't really feel like being around anyone just yet. Part of him thinks that he deserves to be alone. Harry just keeps wondering what he did wrong. The rational part of himself knows that he's being irrational. But his anxiety always creeps up on him in a way that he simply can't shake.
He thinks maybe that's why Liam left, that he couldn't take the disorder. And Harry kind of gets it. If he could, he would try and get away. But his skin is nothing but a cage and he is trapped. Trapped inside a body that is no longer his, but his disorders.
He shakes, realizing that he is the one at fault.
He cries himself to sleep.
YOU ARE READING
THE WRECKAGE OF STARS
Random[larry; completed] It's been over three months and I am continuing to pick shards of him from my skin. © caumet this is also posted at ao3 under the same username. that's still me
