Solace

Chapter Eighteen

If he could, he would've been shouting, screaming at the top of his lungs, wanting for the nightmare to stop, wanting to erase the images from his head as soon as possible. But he had to suffer in silence. As always. Silence was surrounding him and it was becoming too much; he didn't want to hear it anymore.

He didn't even know how it happened but his body collapsed on the bed and he immediately fell asleep, blankness suddenly floating around his mind. There was no sounds, no images that he could remember and it felt so lovely, as if he was floating on a cloud, so soft and comfortable. He had no idea what happened.

When his eyes fluttered open he next morning, he could feel his cheeks burning from the tear stains and the sweat warming up his entire room. His hair was sticking to his forehead and he couldn't believe that he wasn't dead. 

He failed; once again.

He fell asleep with the hope of not opening his eyes the next morning, of dying in his sleep, but no. Obviously, his luck decided to leave him at birth and not come back, not even in his darkest moment. Oh well. He would just have to find a different way to go.

It was early in the morning but the sun was already up in the sky and Louis figured, why not leave now, before everyone woke up and started to wander round the institute? Why not do it now so that Janet doesn't start to get suspicious of Louis not being at breakfast?

His plan was just faultless, really.

The wind battered his face evilly, as if he deserved the beating more than Harry did, and sure, that was understandable. Louis was Louis, right? With the blade right between his fingertips hidden deep within his sweater pockets, he headed for the one place he knew would hurt him most. Go hard or go home.

His trousers soaked through with the moisture from the ground as soon as he sat down, cursing silently in his head. But it didn't matter; he wouldn't feel it the cold wetness for much longer.

He didn't have time to think about what he wanted to do, nor did he want to. He didn't want to say goodbye to anyone because he knew that was some form of regret, apologising for something which you could have prevented yourself. Pointless, stupid, not worth it.

Louis' eyelashes were wet from the hidden tears and his heartbeat was surprisingly steady, breathing completely normal. With his sleeves rolled up, he spared a few seconds to examine his blade, have a staring contest with it almost. He could faintly see his blurred refection in the cold metal and if it wasn't for his urgency, he would've lay on the cold ground beneath him and cried, and cried, and cried about his appearance. He never felt so disgusting in his entire life.

It was as if Louis got a sign, when the strong wind caused a branch to fall off a tree, mere meters away from him, that he knew he had to get started.

He had done it before, it wasn't anything new, the feeling wasn't much different from all the other times he pressed the blade against his skin hard enough to withdraw crimson liquid and slid the blade against his skin. The feeling, in fact, was almost satisfying, like the cuts were releasing something from within him.

He also liked the pain that came along with it. He loved how it felt to forget about whatever it was that was haunting his mind, the emotional pain was always covered by the physical pain he was causing himself; it was heaven because he didn't have to feel anything but the hurt from the cut, the stinging sensation on the edges of the ripped skin.

He didn't realise that he had tears flowing down his cheeks, he also didn't realise how many cuts he had already made. After all, he stopped counting after ten and began to slash his skin with the blade, punishing himself for letting his stupid mind fall for Harry. Everything that falls gets broken so why did he do it?

"Louis?" His thoughts got interrupted by a sudden voice and if he didn't know better, he would have dropped his blade to the floor. Instead, he cut another line into his wrist, deeper than the ones before because no, this couldn't have been happening, Harry wasn't there, acting like a fucking hero, no.

 This couldn't, no, this shouldn't, this wasn't happening.

"Louis, no," Harry's voice faintly echoed in Louis' mind, trying to silence his voice quickly. He didn't even realise what was happening but when the blade from between his fingers disappeared, his whole body froze and he realised that he didn't make that one final cut.

He needed to get out of there, he needed to get away from Harry as soon as possible and damn, he was so glad that he still had a few more blades and pills in his room. Standing up on his wobbly feet, he felt weak but he needed to run, as far from him as possible.

"Louis!"

And Louis couldn't really comprehend what happened next, how Harry's strong arms wrapped around his frame. He knew, though, how he struggled against Harry, how he didn't want to be in his arms. His closed fists battled with Harry's chest but the younger lad was having none of it, determined to hold Louis in his arms. 

Harry's shirt was quickly stained from Louis' wrists but he came in the right time, just before Louis had the time to cut deeper, to end his precious life and although Harry understood that Louis was just an angel on Earth who wanted to go home. But no, Harry needed Louis, although he knew he messed up and it didn't seem like it. Louis was Harry's fresh air, heaven to his lungs.

Louis struggled less and less against curly and Harry held him with his arms, not allowing the smaller lad to escape. With Louis' arms right in front of him, against Louis' chest, he broke, even more than before. He missed the feeling of Harry and although it hadn't been that long, it was killing Louis from the inside out, to think that he might have never felt Harry's warmth against himself. 

At that very moment, Louis didn't care what Harry did. He allowed for his sobs to escape, tears to fall from his eyes which were closed shut and placed his head on Harry's chest, knowing that he was growing weaker and weaker and the sudden pain jolting throughout his body wasn't at all helpful.

"Please," Harry whimpered because seeing Louis in such a breakdown was shattering his heart into millions of pieces and it was all his fault.

It was all his fault and all he wanted was to explain himself to Louis right this instant, sort everything out, make Louis feel at least a little better by knowing the truth but seeing Louis so broken and so fragile only made Harry want to hold him close and hold him back from the dangerous monsters the older guy had inside his head.

Neither knew how much time they spent like that but it was Harry who took a deep breath in and lifted his head up.

"Let's get you inside, okay?" His voice was barely above a whisper but in the silence which surrounded the pair, Louis heard it perfectly despite of those stupid voices in his head who were still trying to drag him along the suicide route. He couldn't wait to be alone.

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