AN - So I feel like all I am doing at the moment is thanking you guys! (which is not a bad thing!) This update I have to thank you all for my (over) 200 votes!! AHHH! LALALALALA! You guys are insane... I love you!
I really hope I did this chapter credit because it was meant to be dramatic but i really can't describe things very well so... I hope it's good enough to count as my thanks to you lot!
Now this chapter goes with Believe by Cher, but I've been listening to Ella Henderson's cover of it because it is amazing.... It's in the sidebar so make sure you listen to it. In case you don't know who she is, she was a contestant on this year's british xfactor and she was amazing!
Please vote/follow/comment if you like this, I was buzzing with the comments I got on the last chapter, literally couldn't wipe the smile off of my face :)
Love you all my sweetums, seriously.
PS. the photo in the side is the coat louis buys harry, awh isn't it gorgeous? ugh i love burberry stuff...
Harry had refused to speak to anyone for the rest of the day. Simone knew instantly that things hadn’t worked out as both she and Harry had hoped, and she wasn’t going to question Harry on it when she saw him sobbing into his hands through the window on the door.
Once Simone’s shift was over, she warned the nurse taking over from her to not trouble Harry too much, before going home and telling her boyfriend all about the young man from Cheshire. As she drifted off to sleep that night, she wondered what would happen to Harry in the future, and how he was coping at that very moment.
It didn’t trouble her too much though, because she soon drifted off into an easy sleep, wrapped up in her boyfriend’s arms, whilst Harry sat in his hospital bed. The only light in the room coming from the pale moon outside and the faint light seeping under through under the door and around the blinds from the corridor outside. His light had been flicked off by a nurse two hours previous, and she advised him to get to sleep quickly because he would have a stressful day the next morning, but Harry couldn’t close his eyes because as soon as his eyelids touched, they squeezed out the tears that glazed his eyes in a permanent state. Every breath Harry sucked in was shuddering, and his chest ached, and his eyes burned, and his lungs squeezed, and his fingertips dug into the palm of his hands causing him an excruciating pain that he was numb to as his eyes were transfixed on the ticking clock opposite him; eyes following the hands around, but not focused in the slightest.
His mind was so far away, drifting from the warm, fuzzy places filled with happy memories, to the dark, damp places filled with break ups and prison sentences and the place where Harry realised what it felt like to love and not feel loved in return.
Louis and Harry. It seemed more like LouisandHarry to most people, co-dependency summed up in one couple. And as Harry sat alone in the dark, itching for a notebook and his guitar to scratch out the song lyrics that had been circling his head since the emails. He had been considering song titles: Heart of shit, What the fuck is love, Leave me here alone, Thought you fucking loved me; there was so many names circling his head and he could almost hear Louis’ teasing voice in his head, giggling to him about his ‘hipster music’ but of course it was only in his head, because Louis didn’t need him anymore.
It’s no longer LouisandHarry. It’s not even Louis and Harry. It’s that guy Louis and that guy Harry, those two English guys who used to know each other. Louis was no longer co-dependent and Harry’s heart twisted as he drifted back into the warm, fuzzy place in his mind.
“Love you, Styles.” Louis breathed as he laid his sweaty head upon Harry’s sticky chest, “Happy birthday.
“I love you too, babe. Thank you.” Harry rumbled in his husky morning voice.
Harry didn’t even mind too much that Louis woke him up at nine on his birthday, because Louis tossed him off which led things that left them panting and sweaty, their lips only parting from one another’s to gasp out an ‘I love you’ before one would catch the other bottom lip between his own and they would continue.
“We should probably shower, I feel sticky and disgusting.” Louis smirked, kissing Harry’s collar bones quickly when the newly-turned-19 lad groaned in disapproval, “Come on, up you get!”
Harry let himself be dragged in the bathroom by his hand, complimenting Louis on his fantastic arse. Louis shot him a smirk over his shoulder as they ran into the bathroom, naked, and Louis started the water to let it warm.
“The lads are coming over at 12, by the way.” Louis said as Harry placed his large hands on Louis’ bronze hips, pressing him back into the bathroom counter.
“Hmm, ok.” Harry mumbled, head buried in the crook of Louis’ neck, the smaller man’s arms hooked loosely around his neck as Harry sucked a mark into the tan skin below Louis’ jaw, “That’s an hour and something, right?”
“That is right, my lover.” Louis teased, breath catching slightly as Harry dragged his lips up his jaw and across to press them quickly to his own lips, “Why?”
“S’nuff time for shower sex then?” Harry asked, a smirk evident in his voice as he moved his head back to look at Louis.
“I think you may be right, my dear Haz.” Louis said, raising a single eyebrow before gesturing towards the shower with a dramatic sweep of the arm, “Shall we?”
“We shall.”
Harry smirked slightly through bitten lips and tear-drowned eyes. He remembered that day perfectly. After he and Louis had finally managed to keep their hands off each other long enough to climb into clothes, Liam and Niall had arrived at their house. They had both brought gifts with them, and Harry had opened them quickly with as much excitement as he did when he was seven, birthdays never got less exciting for him. He was so pleased with his Converse from Liam, his two Abercrombie and Fitch tops from Niall, he thanked them and pulled them into a tight group hug. They all spent the day swaddled into duvets together on the floor, watching re-runs of Two and a Half Men and Family Guy until Liam and Niall went home to change for a meal out.
Once they were gone, Louis gave Harry the present he bought him, and Harry choked when he opened it.
“You bought me a Burberry trench coat?” Harry spluttered, holding the coat tight to his chest, “But Lou, babe, you work in a restaurant! How did you afford this!?”
Louis smiled, “Saved for a while. Do you like it?” He asked hopefully.
Harry looked down at the coat in disbelief, “I love it…” He whispered, before looking up and Louis in a sort of daze, “I love it, Lou.” He said again, in a louder voice, leaning forwards to kiss Louis softly, “Love you more, though.”
Louis blushed, taking the coat from Harry and placing it back into the box so that he could crawl into the space on Harry’s lap where the coat had sat, “Well I’m glad to hear that, Mr Burberry-coat-owner-who-has-the-best-boyfriend-ever-because-he-bought-it-for-him-from-his-shit-waiters-wages, because I love you too.”
Harry decided that it was ok if he let himself cry, it was only him in the room after all. So as he remembered that birthday meal he spent with his three best friends in the world, he finally let himself cry, and all the tears that had been lining his eyes began to pour and pour and he began to choke on his own breath and he didn’t try to help himself because at that moment he didn’t care if he lived or died.
Everything that mattered anything was gone anyway.
As his breathing settled he swore loudly to himself, “Fucks sake, I can’t even die right.” He pulled at his hair, screaming in frustration and biting on his lip to muffle the agonized sounds that tore through him and he sat and abused his own body in an act of pure hatred of himself and desperation to just get away from his own body.
He hated being trapped in the body of the boy who had everything and lost it because he was so selfish that he made the one person he would give everything up for, think that he was worthless and not needed because Harry needed him so much. He needed him so bad that he didn’t even know how to function knowing that Louis had left him, out of choice, because Harry was no longer the type of person he would want to waste his time on.
Two male nurses walking through the corridor heard the strangled sobs and pitiful screams emanating from under the wooden door of Harry’s hospital room, and they rushed in and saw the twenty-one year old boy sitting cross legged on the bed, tugging at his hair so tight that his scalp was burning and the was blood gathering in his roots; they saw his face glistening with the sheen of tears that painted his entire face; they saw crimson dripping from his mouth where he had bitten so hard that he had broken his skin and was revelling in the taste that showed him that he was causing harm to himself, the taste that showed him he was succeeding; they saw his knuckles gone snow white as his hands were balled into fists and most of all they saw the pure agony and desperation pouring and shining dully in Harry’s eyes.
The two nurses rushed across the room and tried to pull Harry’s hands out of his hair. They struggled against his writhing body as he cried through his sobs, “Let me go. Please. Just let me go. I don’t want to be here anymore. Let me go. I want to go. I want to go. I give up. I want to go.”
Harry sobbed and flinched under the two nurse’s touch and lashed out at them with flailing limbs when they got too close. As the taller nurse tried to keep his hands down by his side, Harry’s breath quickened and his pulse raced and memories of his panic-attack flashed through his mind.
One nurse ran across the room to grab a mask and a bag of gas anethstetic, and pressed the mask over Harry’s mouth and nose, effectively causing him to breathe in the anethstetic as it immediately began to take effect.
The nurse, Cameron, carefully removed the mask and the other laid Harry down onto the bed gently, tugging the duvet up to his hips as Cameron gathered together the supplies to clean and bandage his wounds so they wouldn’t get effected.
“Did you put him under general anesthesia?” the second nurse, Jamie, asked in disbelief.
“Well do you think there was any other way we could get him to calm down?” Cameron asked, finishing up the dressings, “That guy was losing it.”
Jamie hummed an agreement and once they were both pleased that his wounds were taken care of and they had put the general anesthesia down onto Harry’s file, they left the room and Harry didn’t wake until morning.
When the medical team from the prison arrived to collect Harry, the nurse on duty at the time – Cameron – recommended that they kept him in for one more day, to keep an eye on his mental health, but the team assured them that Harry would be fine; convinced that he had just put the entire thing on to prevent going back to prison.
So before Harry knew it, he was bundled into the back of a police car and was being driven back to prison. It felt like a death sentence. He felt sick with the shiver that shook his body, he wasn’t cold, it felt like a nervous tick that had developed overnight and his heart achedachedached with louislouislouis.