Beautiful Silent Boy [L.S]

All I Heard Was Nothing

[A/N]: Hello! This is another new chapter, so old readers, sorry if I messed up your flooooow. I just wanted a filler chapter to help smooth out the fuffles in my plot! For the new readers, please enjoy!

(HARRY POV)

I find myself fidgiting uncomfortably in my seat, trying to focus on the lesson in front of me. Mr. McKinely is teaching at a snail's pace, and the content is becoming increasingly less appealing as the minutes flick by.

I can see Louis' knee bouncing next to mine out of the coner of my eye. He's completely fixated on the messy scribbles on the board, and chewing lightly on the end of his pencil.

It's kind of cute if I'm honest.

I keep thinking about last night, and how absorbed I became in my past. The reminder is still in my notifications bar, and I can't bring myself to delete it yet. I know that it's not healthy to let things like that eat away at me, but all I want to do is remember.

I sat awake for a long time last night, willing myself to keep my eyes open. Everytime I allowed them to flutter shut, I could only see screaming, spitting, and blood. I would feel shivers crawling up my spine my heart would begin to race. In search of comfort, I'd hold onto Louis just a little bit tighter, absorbed in the idea that if I didn't, I'd just float away and never come back.

Louis tapped my shoulder and I flinched, being brought back to reality. I looked at him and he pointed to the front of the classroom.

Mr. McKinely leaned against his desk and folded his arms over his chest.

"Mr. Styles?" He questioned.

"Sir?"

"I asked you a question," he said, visibly unpleased.

"M' sorry," I mumbled, "Can you repeat it?" 

The class seemed to giggle quietly and I could feel the tips of my ears starting to turn red.

"I asked you to describe the relationship between Edmund and his father, Glouster," he said, circling the two names on the board.

"I, um," I sank into my seat and thought for a moment.

"Edmund is Glouster's illigitimate son, or a bastard. He is not happy with how he is treated in life, because society looks down on bastards. He doesn't understand that his father loves him unconditionally, and makes a plot to redeem himself by removing his father and brother from the situation to inherit their fortune and titles," I trailed off.

"Continue," he gestured with his hand.

"And, um, he hates his father and his brother because he's consumed by jealousy and bitter hatred. He's frustrated that he's unable to improve his social rank, and questions whether or not there is a God, or whether or not there is hope, like, if any of it is really worth believing in."

"And how does that relate to a modern day relationship, such as the one between you and your father?"

I froze and the class went silent.

"I..." I felt my eyes sting and my heart pound.

"Mr. Styles?"

I got up very quickly and left the room. I could hear Louis yelling at the teacher, something about being inconsiderate and tasteless, but that quickly faded from my ears.

I steadied myself against the lockers and tried to take a deep breath. My thoughts swirled and were going way too fast for me to process them. I feel like I'm going to be sick.

I grabbed the sides of my head and pushed my arms tightly against it, trying to block out the sounds of the world and alleviate the pressure inside of my head.

I fall backwards against the lockers and slide down until I can feel the cold floor underneath of me. I draw my knees tightly into my chest and release and shuddery breath.

"Harry?" Someone asks.

I keep my eyes closed.

"Babe?" 

It's Louis, I confirm.

"Babe, look at me, please?" He asks quietly, his voice warm and smooth.

I look up very carefully, only revealing my eyes.

"Are you alright?"

I shake my head.

He sits next to me and pulls me into his side, his arms wrapped securely around my waist and head.

"Just breath and count to ten," he whispers.

One.... two..... three....

"That's right," he nods.

Four.... five.... six.... seven.... eight.... nine.... ten....

"Is that better?" Louis asks, gently moving strands of hair away from my eyes.

I nod, but I don't look at him.

"It will get better," he says lowly, his voice is so serious.

"I know you don't believe me, and I know you don't see it yet, but it will get better," he says.

I just sink into him, feeling tears glide down my cheeks.

"What if it doesn't?" I say, my voice small and quiet.

He doesn't seem to hear me, and I feel my heart begin to sink, my fears starting to edge out of my senses.

"What if I doesn't get better?" I repeat in my head, hoping that something answers me.

But all I hear is silence.

(Sorry, this is a rather somber chapter, but I feel as though it is necessary. i hope that you enjoyed it! I apologize for any spelling or grammar errors. I did not have a chance to go through and edit this! But I will.... eventuall! Happy reading!)

Erin.xx