Work Text:
I was at work when it first happened. I froze and broke down, endless tears fell from my puffy eyes. There was nothing I could do to stop it. My boss came up to me to ask if I was okay. I told him I was fine. I lied. Louis is dead.
I’m not okay. Sometimes the good memories come back in rushing waves and nothing can prevent the smile on my face. It seems that after that wave passes, its quickly replaced by my last moment with him. Thats when I break down. I can’t stand all that happiness turning into heartbreak in such a short instant.
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I remember the last day at the hospital. He was so pale, one second he was laughing, the next, nothing.
Nothing,
but the steady beep of the machine. Nurses and doctors rushed in, I zoned out as they tried to revive him. In the background I could slightly hear the faint voice of a doctor “1...2...3...clear”. I could feel the shock in his hand that I was holding. They tried 3 times before giving me their meaningless condolences as they slowly left the room. I stayed there for a day, motionless, before they asked me to leave. I felt nothing.
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Its been a week, I can barely eat. I only leave the house for work. Well that was until yesterday, my boss fired me after finding me not working, but crying, for the second time.
Niall came over once, but he hasn’t been back since. Sure, other people missed Louis, but nobody could understand how empty I felt.
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That night Harry went out. He sat alone at the bar, downing beer after beer. Before he knew it, his vision was blurry and his speech slurred. He decided to head home.
As he hung up his keys he looked over at a picture of him and Louis. That picture was from their wedding day, it had been the happiest day of Harry’s life. He grabbed the framed picture and threw it to the floor. He sat against the wall. And he started crying and couldn’t stop. Slowly, he picked a place of glass from the frame. Quietly he slid the piece across his wrist, drawing blood with every swift movement. He put the glass piece down. Red now stained the perfectly white carpet. He walked to the bathroom, stumbling due to his blurry vision. He punched the mirror on the cabinet, shattering it. The cabinet door slowly swung open. There on the ,nearly empty, shelf sat a bottle of pills. They had been Louis’ pills to help with his depression. Harry grabbed them, without thinking about it, and unscrewed the white lid, pouring the remaining contents onto his hand. He walked to the fridge and grabbed another beer. He put the pills into his mouth and drank the beer to wash them down. Harry collapsed onto his sofa. His eyelids were heavy, tempting him to go to sleep. Harry gave in, closing his eyes to enter his never ending rest.