TW: mentions of self-harm
Violet.
"Harry?" I was quiet as I entered the bedroom and found him in the exact same position as he was in a few hours ago. His breathing was so silent that I quickly double checked his pulse to make sure he was indeed alive.
I knew from previous experience that he wasn't a snorer.
I placed the steaming cup of coffee on the bedside table and gently pulled the curtains open, letting daylight seep into the room. It was around 10 in the morning, and Harry had been out of it ever since we had sex last night. Or rather, he had sex with me.
He grunted when the light hit his face and I noticed his face scrunching up as he stirred a bit. "Harry." I spoke again, dropping my hand on his shoulder to nudge him. His eyelashes slowly moved as his eyes fluttered open and he took in his surroundings.
"How are you feeling?" I asked, sitting down on the space of the mattress that he wasn't occupying, hand still on his shoulder. He was only in his T-shirt and briefs beneath the sheets even though this room was far from warm.
He looked rather out of it when he was still looking around the room in a dazed way. "F-Fine." He eventually answered with a very hoarse and low morning voice.
"I made coffee." I pointed to the mug on the bedside table and Harry followed the direction my finger pointed in. He was about to say something, but before he could, his body suddenly jolted up and he thrashed around in the sheets. I was surprised by his sudden movement, the sheets he had thrown off covering my vision slightly as I heard him running towards the bathroom.
I was confused before I could hear his retching and vomiting into the toilet.
I took the coffee cup and brought it to my own lips, feeling guilty that the smell of it was what had upset his stomach. He hadn't eaten anything yesterday so I couldn't imagine much food leaving his body.
It was another minute before I heard him flushing the toilet, and then sound of running water. He slowly walked back, stopping in the doorway with a toothbrush in his mouth.
"Sorry." I mumbled, instructing my eyes to stay focussed on his face and not dart down his muscular thighs.
Harry didn't say anything but went back into the bathroom to spit out the toothpaste.
"Do you want something else to drink? Tea? Or just some water?" I asked once I got up from my seated position on the bed. Harry walked over to the closet and pulled out some sweatpants and a hoodie while he shook his head. "I'm really not in the mood for food."
"That's alright." I smiled at him. He seemed annoyed and aloof as he crawled into the clothes, a visible shiver running up his spine as he stood up straight to tie the strap of the sweatpants around his waist. They hung rather low on him and he balanced himself on one foot while trying to slip on some socks. The fact that he was almost toppling over only seemed to agitate him more.
"Did you sleep well?" I asked, taking another sip of warm coffee. He seemed to almost glare at the mug in my hand before he nodded. "I did. You have a comfy bed. And I was tired from... you know."
Not giving me an orgasm?
I nodded. "I know. So, why don't we sit down on the couch and hang out a bit?" I nudged my head in the direction of the living room and Harry didn't protest. We were soon seated on the couch, him bobbing his knee up and fiddling with his hands. He let out a sigh, resting the back of his head against the couch cushion.
"How long is this going to last?"
"What exactly are you referring to?"
Harry shrugged. "Feeling like this."
I put my empty mug down on the coffee table and crossed my one leg over the other. I was wearing a big jumper, a pair of leggings and some fuzzy socks to keep warm on this cold March day. "So... Cocaine is a stimulant, an alkaloid. It makes someone feel... energized, happy, aroused, but also slightly numb. A lot of people take it to escape some sort of negative feeling or emotion. It's a drug that works mainly psychological, which is also why the withdrawal is mainly psychological."
"Doesn't feel bloody psychological." Harry butted in, referring to his physical state.
I nodded. "I know. But the physical stuff will be gone in a few days. You'll feel like your body is failing on you, being absolutely exhausted but restless at the same time. I know you have twitching muscles now, as well as a very fast heartbeat and chills. But I think after today, maybe tomorrow, those will subside a bit and make place for something else."
Harry flicked his eyes up to meet mine. "Something else?"
I leaned back against the couch, chewing on the inside of my cheek a bit. "Everything you've been trying to hide beneath the coke."
"I don't think I'm trying to hide anything." Harry frowned and I shrugged.
"I think you do, you just don't remember because you've been doing it for so long. But just... be prepared for negative emotions and memories to pop into your head. Many people turn to drugs to deal with depression, anxiety or suicidal thoughts. So experiencing all of that is going to take another few days, at least. And that's why you need intense therapy, to deal with all of that."
Harry didn't say anything, but his jaw sharpened and he diverted his gaze to his fingers, fumbling with the cuticles and the skin around them.
"Have you ever... tried to hurt yourself?"
Harry didn't look at me, but shook his head at my question. "No."
I was about to open my mouth and answer, but he cut me off. "Have you?"
His question threw me off guard and took me by surprise as I froze for a second, nails digging in my legs which my hands were resting on in my lap. "I... Um – this isn't about me." I quickly avoided and cleared my throat.
"So you're allowed to ask me the most personal questions but I don't get to know that about you?" Harry frowned on the opposite side of the couch and I bit my lip. "I don't... It's not something I feel comfortable talking about." I explained quickly, hoping he would take the hint.
"That means that you did, right? Otherwise you would've just said no."
"Can we just drop it? This isn't relevant right now." My voice was harsher and snappier than I intended it to be, but it did make Harry shut up. I straightened my back out a bit and leaned back again, silence taking over again.
"I just want you to know, that the next few days will consist of fatigue, restlessness, cold shivering rather than sweating, depressed thoughts and a lot of thinking. You're going to be confronted with everything you've been trying to forget, and you'll run into yourself in that process."
Harry sighed and rubbed his forehead with his left palm. "Do you think I can do this?"
No.
"It's going to be hard. I'm going to try and help you, but I'm not a therpaist and it's going to take a lot more than this week. This is only the beginning. You can't stop after this. The craving you feel... It's going to be there for the rest of your life, Harry. The physical and even psychological issues from withdrawal might disappear, but you'll always struggle with the addiction and the craving that comes with it. You're going to need to be strong for the rest of your life."
"I'm just... not sure who I even am without drugs." He admitted in defeat and I got up from the couch across him to sit down next to him, placing my hand on his arm. "That's what we're going to try and find out. Trust the process, Harry."
He sighed and nodded. "I feel like smoking now." He already got up to his feet to crack open a window but I stopped him. "Technically, I can't let you smoke until you've had something to eat."
His eyes turned from confused to annoyed in seconds. "Why? I'm not eating, didn't you hear me throw up earlier?"
"If you can't eat, you can't smoke." I spoke with a shrug, grabbing the packet of Lucky Strike from his hand and holding it behind my back.
He rolled his eyes. "Ha-ha, real mature." He stepped closer and reached behind me to take them back, but I moved around so my hands stayed out of his reach.
"Fuckin' hell, you're annoying." He bit, still attempting to take the cigarettes back. I gasped in fake shock. "Tell me something I don't know."
"Those poor kids at the RSP." He taunted and I nodded in enthusiasm. "I know, imagine having me as a social worker, the worst, right? The horror."
It seemed to annoy Harry even more that I wasn't fazed by his insults. He grunted as he made a final attempt to reach the cigarettes and then gave up, shooting daggers at me before he trotted over to the fridge to pull out some food.
"You're making it very hard for me to like you." He mumbled, closing the fridge door again without taking anything out, but grabbing one the banana's next to it on the counter.
"Good thing you already love me then." My lips curled up into a small smile when I saw Harry rolling his eyes so hard he saw brain. I then shrugged. "And it doesn't matter. I don't like me very much either."
Harry looked at me for a second, as if not believing what I had just said. I didn't say it to get pity, or to have him retort anything. It was a simple truth. I knew I was annoying, I knew I was impatient. It was my job to help people, but I honestly only got on their nerves.
Basically, I was being paid to mentally fight with everyone all day every day. I had to be strong to do the job I did, I had to be self-aware not self-conscious in order to not let any of the insults really get to me. If you're aware of your own shortcomings, no one can really surprise you by pointing them out anymore.
Harry quickly munched down his banana, stuffing his mouth full and swallowing without biting, obviously very desperate for his cigarette. He joined me next to the window in no time, opening his mouth as if I needed to inspect if he had truly swallowed it all.
I handed him the cigarette pack back after I had already taken out two, one between my own lips before I gave the other one to Harry. We smoked in front of the window in silence. A few rays of sunlight were peeking through and it felt nice on the skin.
We watched the trains pass by and I leaned against the window frame with the stick between my lips, feeling the smoke enter my lungs.
"Thanks for last night." Harry quietly mumbled, snapping me out of my thoughts, "I... needed it."
I knew he was referring to the sex and I slowly nodded. "Glad you enjoyed yourself."
He frowned slightly, blowing out a puff of smoke into the air. "You said that already."
I nodded. "And I meant it."
I could tell he could sense my tone, and he knew something was up. Shaking his head while he was still frowning, he spoke. "What did I do?"
I sighed and refused to meet his eye contact as my gaze once again concentrated on a train passing by. "It's what you didn't do." I muttered, "There was no foreplay, you didn't let me adjust, you lasted about two minutes and don't know if you noticed, but I didn't exactly have an orgasm. It was selfish."
It was quiet for a bit as I finished up my cigarette. Harry's heavy eyes were still resting on me as I stood staring straight ahead, folding my arms in front of my chest now. I finally dared looking up to him and noticed his eyes were burning into my neck.
I flushed a slight tint of pink when I remembered him leaving a hickey there, and I quickly brushed my hair from behind my ear to cover it up.
"I didn't realize it was that bad." Harry mumbled, tossing his cigarette butt out the open window. I didn't reply, only moved from my position so I could shut the window again and stop the cold from flowing inside the already chilly apartment.
"I figured. You were occupied with withdrawal. But you know...," I sighed dramatically, "All I kept thinking to myself was 'if he really loved me, he w-". My words were cut short when Harry let out a pained groan.
"How long are you going to go on and on about that?" He whined, rubbing his forehead at my mention of his love confession to me. I snickered beneath my breath. "It's funny."
"It's fucking embarrassing." He corrected me and I shrugged. "That's why it's funny."
"I could make it up to you, you know?" He took a few strides until he was right in front of me, lean body towering over mine. I peeked up at him with a frown but quickly understood what he meant.
"I'm good." I piped out as an answer to his proposal to give me an orgasm.
"Or you could use that little purple thingy from your bedside drawer." He grinned and I smacked his arm, which only caused him to laugh harder.
"Forget I said anything." I mumbled with an eyeroll while making my way to the kitchen to cook some lunch.
After Harry had eaten most of the pasta I had made, I realized his lack of hunger had made space for a huge appetite. We smoked another cigarette after lunch and waited for Louis, who was about to visit Harry for the first time as his only visitor allowed. I was slightly nervous to have Louis here since we didn't exactly get along that well, and I doubted he was on board with this.
I cringed internally when the doorbell rang and I saw Harry fast asleep on the couch, pink lips slightly parted as his chest rose and fell in steady, deep breaths.
I quickly hurried downstairs to let Louis up, his cold stare immediately showing his regular mood; unhappy.
"Harry just fell asleep..." I tried to explain but he didn't seem to care as he walked through my building as if he had been here a hundred times before. I rolled my eyes in annoyance as I trailed behind him, until he finally realized he had no clue which floor I was on.
I stepped in front of him, feeling the urge to glare but I surpressed it as I lead him into the apartment. I held my finger up to my lips to gesture to him to be quiet, and our eyes landed on Harry still asleep. I didn't think he'd wake up in the few minutes it took me to let Louis up, so we stood awkwardly in front of the couch, watching a sleeping Harry.
I nudged him towards the kitchen, closing the door behind us. "I'm sorry, he fell asleep literally three minutes ago. He knew you were coming but he's been really tired. I wanted to call and cancel bu-".
"It's fine." Louis sharply cut me off, leaning against the counter with his hands in his pockets. He let his eyes dart around the small kitchen but didn't say anything, which I was grateful for.
"He's been doing okay. I mean, it's not been easy, but overall he's doing okay." I informed Louis.
"Yea, that's... that's great. Sorry, I'm a bit out of it, just had a call with Ian and he was being a complete twat."
"You had a call with the RSP?" I asked and Louis nodded. "Wasn't very long, Ian didn't really want to talk to me." I could tell Louis was about to talk more but we were interrupted by the ringtone coming from my phone. I glanced at the screen, recognizing the RSP-number.
"It's the RSP. I'll just be a minute." I picked up the phone, holding it to my ear.
"Hello, this is Violet." I spoke. I was met with Victor's voice who informed that Ian wished to speak to me. I quickly flicked my eyes up to Louis, who had heard Victor's voice through the phone due to how silent the kitchen was.
"Um- yea, okay. Put him on." I frowned.
Louis looked confused and slightly defeated. I could predict what Ian was calling about, probably to bitch about Louis. I walked away a few steps and pointed to my bedroom, signalling I was going to take the call there. This was still a work-call, and technically Louis wasn't allowed to hear any conversation I had with Ian.
"Hey, dude." I chirped into the phone once Ian was on. I plopped down on my bed, an involuntary grin on my lips.
"Hey, dude." He mimicked and greeted me back, causing me to snicker. "So, what's been going on?"
Ian let out a sigh. "Not much. It's fuckin' boring here without you, Violet. When are you coming back?"
"Awww." I cooed. "That's nice, aren't the others taking good care of you? I'll be gone all of next week too."
"They are, but you're my favourite." I could hear him smiling and I smiled too. I loved it when kids liked me this much, it meant they trusted me and they liked working with me. "Don't tell the others, but you're my favourite too." I responded.
"Nellie keeps saying she's your favourite, what a bitch." Ian huffed and I instantly scolded him. "Don't talk like that, Nellie's not a bitch. Watch the language. Have you been getting along with everyone else?"
"Aaron's being a dick like usual, but I wear earplugs now during the night to help with the snoring." Ian explained.
"Language," I repeated in a sigh, "You sound at ease, like comfortable."
"I am. Withdrawal's been gone mostly and Rebecca and I are making quite a bit of progress during therapy. I finally feel... good. Like, I was really unhappy here for the first few weeks, but it's changing."
"Ian, that's amazing to hear. I'm really happy for you. So, you decided to keep working with Rebecca then?" I remembered him saying he didn't like her and would like to switch to another therapist, but he seemed to be fine with her now. "Yeah, I think I was the problem to be honest. She's really cool."
"She is. And she's a great therapist, she's helped a lot of people. You're in good hands with her."
I heard noises in the background on the other side and heard the distinct sounds of people chattering. One voice was louder and higher than the others, and it was definitely Nellie's pitch that stood out over the others.
"So, what have you guys got planned for the rest of the day?" I asked.
"They want to watch this Zombie-movie type of thing. But I might go work out or listen to some music or something."
"Sounds like a great plan for a Sunday." I responded.
"What are you doing during your holiday?" Ian asked and I froze slightly.
Helping one of your friends get sober.
"Just enjoying my time off a bit. I know it doesn't seem like we do a lot at the RSP, but it's hard to keep you kids in check all day." I teased a bit. I wasn't completely lying but still.
Ian sighed dramatically. "We're not that bad."
"You were a right wanker in the beginning." I pointed out and he chuckled. "You were a bit of a bitch."
"I know."
"So... The real reason I wanted to call is... I had a talk with Louis about what we talked about last week. About him not seeing me as an adult and how I wanted to be let loose a bit more."
"Yes, I remember we talked about that. How did it go?" I asked as if I didn't know already. Ian sighed once more on the other end of the line.
"Not great. He just doesn't really want to hear it. I think he underestimates me so much."
"I can see why you'd think that, Ian. But he's your family and I honestly think he's just worried about you. It's hard to deal with a family member who has a substance problem, you feel a bit... powerless. I'm sure he only wants the best for you. Maybe he's just going about it the wrong way."
My head flicked up to see Louis standing in the doorway and I felt slightly embarrassed that he had probably just heard me say that. I diverted my gaze back to my lap, trying to keep my focus on the phone call.
"I think it's best you bring this up in a therapy session with Rebecca, Louis should join those too once you're in the next phase of the program. I think it'll be easier for you guys to resolve things when there's a third party involved." I explained.
"You're probably right. I just... It gets so frustrating sometimes. And I feel like you're the only one here that has this patience to work through stuff like that with me. And now you're not here..." His voice died a bit in the end, and I knew he was mainly being dramatic.
$Every single person working at the RSP was capable of having this very conversation with him, but he had a soft spot for me and had singled me out a bit. Usually we were against favouritism, but if it was beneficial to the kid we just let it happen. If I tore away from Ian now, he'd only spiral back instead of work forward.
"Ah, don't be too dramatic, Ian. I'll be back before you know it. And you can call me whenever you want." I reassured him, "But listen, I have to go now, I have some stuff planned for today. Will you be fine there with Victor?"
"Yea, I'll be fine. Thanks, Violet." Ian's voice held sincerity and it was nice to hear it. He had already made so much progress compared to the first week he was at the RSP. His personality was showing, and it was a nice one. There was definitely a lot of potential there, and he ended up being so goofy and playful which I would have never guessed in the beginning.
I ended the phone call and looked up to meet Louis' vision. He stood there looking confused and his body was tense. "He seems to like you." He mumbled.
I didn't really know how to respond to that so just nodded slightly. "He's a great kid."
"Look, do you have any alcohol in this thing you call an 'apartment'? Harry's out cold and I need some tequila." He sighed, letting himself slide down the wall until he was in a seated position. I arched up an eyebrow, not sure if I had heard him correctly.
"I hid everything, but I have some." I responded, quietly padding through the hallway to enter Pierre's room. Somewhere in his closet I had hidden our alcohol-stash, picking out a bottle of tequila before tiptoeing back to my own room. Harry hadn't moved from his curled up position on the couch.
"Here." I handed Louis the bottle, which he quickly unscrewed and took a few sips from. I sat down on the floor in front of him, legs crisscrossed as I took the bottle from him and mimicked his actions. I knew alcohol was against the rules, but I wasn't planning on denying Louis his request and Harry was asleep anyway.
"I think I owe you an apology, Violet."