Summary: Louis and Harry are both having bad days, and they both need different things from each other.
Content Warning
Suicidal thoughts, self harm
Okay so this one's gonna be a little tricky. In the beginning I labeled Harry and Louis' POVs, but in the next section their thoughts are going to be different. Instead of rewriting the same scene twice (which imo isn't very fun to read) I'm just gonna do their thoughts in the same scene
⭐ So, Harry's thoughts will be italicized and Louis' thoughts will be bolded.
I hope that isn't too tricky to read!
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Harry POV
Recognizing that I am having a bad day is difficult for me, but I am working on it. Forcing myself to slow down and feel my emotions when life refuses to slow down for me sucks. It sucks, and it doesn't always work out. It makes it impossible to reach out, because I can't stop time and disregard all of my responsibilities just because I'm feeling sad.
Sometimes life will create a perfect storm of busyness, stress, and sadness that makes me want to stay in bed all day and sob for no reason. And sometimes I do that. Other times, the storm will creep up slowly, starting as a few scattered showeres here and there, giving me a glimpse of what's to come. That is what has happened all week; I'm just waiting to get caught in the storm now.
On Thursday, I had to spend the day on vocal rest, which meant that I wasn't able to communicate effectively with anyone. So I sat on the sidelines of writing and travelling, going unnoticed and unseen.
The following day was bad as well, partially because I couldn't be bothered to cheer myself up. Apparently Louis couldn't be bothered to, either.
I was fine for a few days after that, and then the storm hit in full force, and the rain didn't let up once. For two days I wanted to die. I let my suicidal thoughts manifest, and I even made a list of what I would be leaving behind if I brought my thoughts to life.
Today is the third day of me feeling like shit, and I have never felt more alone and unloved in my life. Louis has never felt so far from me. My days, which were once spent with me and my band mates trying to make the best of our sometimes stressful schedule, have turned into hours of crying and not caring about a single thing, and thinking deeper about suicide than I ever have before.
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Louis POV
Whenever I get upset about something, I keep to myself until I feel better. Whenever Harry gets upset about something, he needs affection and physical love to ease the emotional pain he feels.
There is a time that doesn't come very often. But when the time does come, it brings a deep sorrow with it that simultaneously torments Harry and I.
The sorrow feels like a sickness. You can feel it in its prodromal period, you can sense the warning signs, but it is usually too late to fix by then. This time, the sickness began with me, and only a day or two after, it spread to Harry.
The best thing about being rich and in a successful band is that I get to financially take care of my big family. I get to pay for my sisters' schooling, and I am currently in the process of buying my mum and her husband a new house. Unfortunately, the process is extremely stressful.
The looming stress of buying a new house gave me the bug, but what followed completely incompacitated me. The worst part is, it was my fault.
On Thursday, I got a call from Simon, who took it upon himself to scold me for getting drunk and almost getting myself arrested. Sure, Liam was with me and we were both being stupid, but I was the one who decided to go streaking. Simon and the lawyer he hired talked my punishment down to a fine, which I paid and thought that was the end of it. Until Simon called me.
The warning of having to be on my best behavior, along with the classic insulting of my character, stuck with me like a stuffy nose in winter.
After the phone call, I just wanted to spend the day alone, but Harry wanted me. I tried my best to be there for him, but he could only text me about his needs due to being on vocal rest.
Because we were both upset, we ended up hurting each other more than helping, since we both needed vastly different things to feel better. This is the sickness that has stuck with us for a week now. The deep sorrow gets heavier with each day. Harry has never felt so far from me.
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Third person POV
Despite having just come off stage from performing in front of thousands of adoring and enthusiastic fans, Harry feels the need to shut the world out.
Nobody wants me. Nobody needs me. I'm not needed anywhere.
He puts his earbuds in and pulls up his sad song playlist, then stuffs his phone in his jacket pocket and heads towards the exit. He couldn't care less about going outside unsupervised or nobody knowing where he is.
"Kiss me like you wanna be loved, wanna be loved, wanna be loved...this feels like falling in love, falling in love, falling in love." Ed Sheeran's love song fills Harry's ears and makes his stomach ache in the worst way possible.
I don't relate to this song.
The realization makes his knees give in. As soon as he hits the hard, unforgiving cement, he begins sobbing, which has been nothing new to him all week.
"What's wrong?" He hears somebody loudly asks during the silence between songs. Beyond the gate, he sees a girl approaching another girl. They immediately hug, slowly swaying side to side. They stay like that for longer than Harry wants to see, because it makes him feel like jumping off a cliff.
I need that.
He rips out his earbuds and weakly stands back up, walking unnoticed through the darkness of the night back into the building. He keeps his head low as he walks past people he knows and strangers, with one thought at the forefront of his mind:
I don't think I can make it to tomorrow.
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The stark dichotomy between a deafening show to a silent and desolate dressing room is something Louis doesn't think he will ever get used to. Regardless, he forces himself to adjust to the uncomfortable silence, the absence of noise causing a quiet ringing in his ears. He looks around the room as he lights a cigarette. His eyes go wide when he sees Harry's things and suddenly remembers that they share a dressing room.
I need to be alone.
Louis gets up from the couch and locks the door, then exhales smoke into the air as he walks back to the couch. The feeling of waiting for someone to knock on his door keeps him from fully relaxing, along with a million other things that circle his brain. It seems as though every time he finally gets alone time, somebody or something interrupts it.
He has so many things going on at once. He feels it is beginning to impact his memory, because it is impossible to keep up-to-date tabs on every little happening in his life. Each of the responsibilities he carries on his shoulders are overwhelming enough individually. Together, they are debilitating. When he has so much going on at once, the only thing he can do successfully is freeze; if he can't do one thing, it may be better to just ignore them all.
"Louis?" Someone knocks on his door, but he ignores it. He slouches further onto the couch and takes another drag of his cigarette. A few seconds later, someone knocks again. This time, the knocks are louder.
I should've turned the lights off.
"Mate, I know you're in there."
Zayn.
Louis rolls his eyes as he meanders to the door and unlocks it.
"What?" He says, trying to give Zayn the hint that he wants to be left alone.
"Can I talk to you?" Zayn lets himself in and inadvertently takes Louis' spot on the couch.
I guess I don't have a choice now.
Louis lets the door swing shut with a strong clunk before joining his friend on the couch.
"Perrie and I are in a weird place right now. She's touring, and we're touring, and we haven't seen each other in a while. The time zones make it really hard for us to have a conversation, so we kinda just stopped calling each other. Even when we text, it's usually a few hours before either of us respond," Zayn explains.
Why is he telling me this? Does he think I can help him? I can't even fucking pay attention to what he's saying.
Louis stares blankly at Zayn, because his brain can't process the words he is saying. Frustrated tears sting his eyes, so he shifts his gaze to the door and takes a puff of his cigarette.
"I'm gonna be honest, I don't know how to help you. I guess you could just wait it out? Or find a break in both tours so you can visit each other." What feels like half-assed advice somehow ends up helping Zayn a little. They continue talking about Zayn's problem, but all the while Louis keeps giving subtle signals that he wants him to leave. When Zayn finally leaves his dressing room, Louis locks the door. As he lights a new cigarette, he daydreams about being alone on the tour bus.
He can't wait to be completely alone, to not have to be on his best behavior for Simon or feign kindness and consideration for other people. In fact, he can't handle anything or anybody else right now, because for the past week he has hardly been able to handle himself.
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By the time the five boys make it onto the tour bus and start for their hotel, Harry has lost all hope. He wants to die. He wants to hang himself, which he almost finds funny since he has spent four years of his life cutting himself.
When Harry emerges from the bathroom, now wearing sweatpants and a soft sweatshirt, he sees Louis climbing into his bunk and drawing the curtain. Harry's mind is empty, but his body feels drawn to Louis. They have been distant lately, and Harry needs Louis right now.
With tears playing at his eyes, he goes over to Louis' bunk and opens the curtain just enough to see his boyfriend's face.
"Louis?" He softly asks.
I sound so weak. This is so sad.
"What?" Louis responds.
I love you but please give me space.
"Can I please lay with you?" Harry sounds like he is on the verge of tears. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, because he is exhausted from the concert and all the crying he has done today.
Fuck. What do I tell him? I can't tell him to go away, he's about to cry. I can't do this.
Louis looks at Harry for a moment longer, and his heart breaks. He knows Harry is hurting. He knows what Harry wants but he can't give it to him. The straw that broke the camel's back was placed on him days ago, and he has been barely getting by since then. He squeezes his eyes shut before answering Harry, feeling guilty, yet relieved for not abandoning his own needs.
"Not right now, sorry," Louis mumbles.
He doesn't want me. I should've known.
Nice going, you made your boyfriend cry.
"Oh, okay." Harry looks down to hide his tears, then goes to his bunk. He takes the black pouch from his pillowcase and locks himself in the bathroom. Louis peeks through the curtain and watches as Harry locks himself in the bathroom. He wishes he could help, but he knows that he can't help Harry without helping himself first; he'll just end up making Harry feel worse.
I hope someone helps him.
Thoughts of killing himself cloud Harry's mind as he takes one of his razorblades out of the pouch. He looks in the mirror and pulls his sweatshirt up, making several angry cuts on the side of his stomach, just above his fern tattoo. When he stops to breathe for a moment, he sees through blurry eyes that his cuts are dripping blood. He silently sobs as he makes a few more cuts, then inadequately cleans up and bandages the wound so he doesn't feel the wetness of blood on his dry sweatshirt.
I want to die. I want to fucking die.
Harry loses track of time, surely spending way too long in the bathroom but not finding a single part of him that cares. Louis doesn't care about him. With a heavy heart, he eventually decides to leave the bathroom.
Everyone must be asleep.
Tears continue to stream down Harry's face as he quietly pads through the dark bus.
"Harry?" A whisper from the couch stops him. Niall. "What's up, bud?" The care in his voice from the simple question makes Harry break down. He covers his mouth as pain rips through him, the sound of his muffled whimpers the only thing audible in the bus. "Come here." Niall, who is laying on the couch, opens his arms for his friend. The two boys laying on the couch together is a tight fit, but Harry doesn't care. He just needs to be held.
Niall holds Harry tightly and as close to him as he possibly can. He doesn't want to upset Harry more with questions, so he remains quiet as he hugs him.
Harry doesn't know how to explain his sudden breakdown, or at least what Niall thinks is a sudden breakdown. He's sure Niall has questions, but Harry can't be bothered to control himself or his emotions. So, he wets Niall's T-shirt with his tears and curls in on himself because of how much he hurts. Everything just hurts, and it won't stop.
Niall begins to worry more when Harry continues crying. It breaks his heart to hear him try to cry quietly so he doesn't wake anyone. He doesn't know how to help the younger boy, so he softly sings to him in hopes of calming him down.
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Hours of the night skip by like a blur. The last thing Harry remembers was crying on Niall's chest while the boy sang him to sleep. Strangely enough, Niall singing to him helped him stop crying, which he didn't know was possible.
He fully wakes up and realizes that Niall is carrying him down a hotel hallway. The soothing rhythm of his muffled footsteps, along with the warm feeling of human contact, makes Harry close his eyes and want to fall back asleep. However, he is placed on his bed mere minutes later.
Don't leave me.
"I'm gonna go to my room now, but Louis' gonna be here in just a little bit. He's gonna take good care of you," Niall promises as he detaches himself from Harry. Harry can feel the melancholy expression on his face as Niall talks to him in such a loving way that it almost makes him want to cry again. "I'm sure Louis knows more than I do, so he can help you, okay?"
Louis doesn't know anything. Louis doesn't want me.
Harry has no energy to respond, so he just lays there as Niall gives him one last hug before leaving the room. He is too numb to cry, too exhausted to get up and cut again, so he rolls himself off the bed and lands on the hard floor with a solid thump.
I could just die right here. What would they do with my body? What would they do after finding me?
Sleep will eventually overtake him, but until then he fantasizes about his death.
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Once again, Harry wakes up in a strange setting. While the disorientation of just waking up makes him momentarily forget about the state of his life, he looks down at his body. He is shirtless, there is a white washcloth on his lower stomach, and he hears someone walking toward him.
Shit, he's awake.
Louis doesn't know what to say. He doesn't know how to explain the paradox of him purposely distancing himself until he feels better to avoid hurting Harry's feelings. Furthermore, he doesn't know what is going on in Harry's mind; he doesn't have the first clue actually.
"I don't want you," Harry says, voice shaky and barely above a whisper.
Don't leave me. Everybody always leaves.
He doesn't mean that. But what if he does?
Louis hesitates for a moment before sitting on the floor next to Harry. He applies light pressure on the towel, but Harry doesn't react to the sharp pain. He stares blankly at the ceiling as Louis cleans his cuts and bandages them, only reacting to the constant pain by softly tensing his obliques.
There's so many cuts.
Unfortunately, Louis and Harry have been through this so many times that Louis has the routine memorized and knows how to make bandages stay put on almost any body part.
When Louis goes into the bathroom to put away the antibiotic cream and attempt to wash Harry's blood out of the white cloth, he finds himself tearing up and at a crossroad. He hasn't gotten an hour to himself all week, and he needs alone time to let himself heal. However, he can easily conclude that Harry is hurting more than him, and he can't lose Harry. So many people need him. The world needs him. Louis leaves the bathroom and sees that Harry hasn't moved, so he helps him into bed.
"Can you tell me what's going on?"
I want to die. I want to kill myself. I don't want to wake up tomorrow. I can't do this anymore.
He's scaring me.
"I wanna kill myself." Something in the way Harry says it tells Louis he means it, and it is absolutely bone chilling. The emptiness behind Harry's eyes, the absence of his usually ever-present smile, and the overwhelming look of surrender makes Louis' heart ache. Louis holds back tears as he brushes Harry's disordered curls away from his face and presses a kiss to his forehead.
My beautiful baby. I hate to see you hurting so badly.
"Let me die." Harry pushes Louis away and begins scratching at his wrist. Louis rips Harry's hands away from each other and pins them down at the boy's sides. Harry cries harder and tries to squirm free, but he doesn't have enough energy to fight Louis off.
"Breathe," Louis calmly says, doubting Harry will listen to him. When Harry stops struggling, Louis pulls him in. Just like with Niall, Harry cries with his head on the older boy's chest; he cries so hard that Louis worries about him passing out. He cradles Harry's head and slowly rubs his back, but the boy won't calm down. "I'm right here with you. I'm never gonna leave your side. You're not alone in this."
Please believe me.
Nearly twenty minutes go by before Harry responds to Louis cuddling him and kissing him. Louis' love has begun to chip away at Harry's pain, if only millimeters at a time.
"Is it okay if I sing to you?" Louis asks. A small hum sounds from Harry, which Louis takes as a yes. "I love you so much." He kisses his boyfriend's head one more time before he begins to softly and slowly sing the song that he knows has brought Harry back to life countless times.
"I will fight, I will fight for you. I always do until my heart is black and blue." Each verse Louis sings sounds like a lullaby. "I'll reach my hands out in the dark and wait for yours to interlock, I'll wait for you, I'll wait for you."
Maybe he does want me. He doesn't have to stay right now, but he's still here.
"And I will hold, I'll hold onto you. No matter what this world will throw, it won't shake me loose..."
Please believe me. I mean every word. I'm not leaving, ever.
The song that Harry keeps private to preserve its meaning sounds like a promise from Louis. Deep, deep down, Harry knows it is a promise Louis will keep. Despite wishing against making it to tomorrow, Harry lets himself fall asleep as Louis continues to revitalize him.
If Louis doesn't leave my side, I think I can make it to tomorrow.
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Hello loves!!! I hope you're all doing well ❤️❤️
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