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April 5th 2015//
Harry sighed as he turned the music louder, wanting to drown out all the voices around him. He didn’t want to hear the couple’s around him saying goodbye, making plans for the next week. He didn’t want to hear those three words that he dreaded the most. He stared down at the ground as he walked, not really minding his surroundings. He was slightly drunk (but only slightly) as he made his way home, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his coat. The music blared loudly into his ears and he tried so hard not to look at the people around him, mostly couples. He tried not to cry, not to let the tears fall because he was supposed to be over the breakup a long time ago. He wasn’t supposed to mourn over some dumb ass college romance for months, fuck, he wasn’t supposed to even care because Louis for sure didn’t care.
He sighed as he walked into his and Zayn’s shared dorm room, plopping down on the bed immediately. His fingers tangled in his curly locks, tugging at them in frustration. He wanted to punch a wall, kick a hole in it. Anything to relieve the burning pain inside him. The pain that made it feel like his lungs were on fire and his chest was caving in and his heart was beating too fucking fast. It hurt so bad and he was just a broken shell, really. A mess, a bloody fucking mess.
“Haz?” Zayn’s tired voice somehow managed to register in Harry’s mind and he turned to look at Zayn, his eyes red and filled with tears that had not yet fallen down his cheeks. Zayn sighed softly at the sight of his friend who looked so sad that it was heartbreaking. How anyone would ever even want to break Harry’s heart was something Zayn just couldn’t understand. Harry was so sweet and perfect and kind - everything you’d ever dream of in a boyfriend, really. And to see Harry like this made Zayn want to beat Louis up - he couldn’t though, he had promised Harry he wouldn’t.
“Y-Yeah?” Harry croaked out, wiping his eyes. He was a mess and he had no problem in admitting that. He would rather be honest than lie about being okay. Zayn crossed his arms, the muscles flexing and his tattoos showing off quite clearly. His brown eyes stared intently at Harry - studying the younger lad closely.
“You shouldn’t think about him, it only makes you sad” Zayn spoke, sitting down beside Harry. Harry sighed deeply, staring down at his feet.
“I know Z, it’s just- It fucking hurts, you know?” He spoke softly, sighing. He scratched his jean covered thighs, pressing his lips in a thin line to keep from crying. He wanted to be the one Louis loved, the one he would give his jacket on a cold night, the one he would shower with kisses and love. But that just wasn’t his place anymore, it was Eleanor’s. Louis had Eleanor now and he just acted like Harry and he never happened - which hurt Harry more than anything. Louis just didn’t even acknowledge Harry in any way.
“Oh Harry, I know, I know. I’m so sorry” Zayn whispered, pulling his crying friend in a tight hug, holding the lad close to him. Harry just cried into Zayn’s shoulder, his slightly drunk state wearing off slowly. He had seen them at the bar, they had been there. Louis and Eleanor had been fucking snogging and Harry just could not stand the scene that had taken place before his eyes. What was even worse was that when Harry had walked past them, Louis had for sure seen him, he hadn’t even said a simple ‘hi’. He was such a dick. But nonetheless Harry loved Louis - even though the love wasn’t returned from the older lad.
“Why do I love him? He’s such a fucking dick!” Harry screamed, sniffling as he clutched Zayn’s shirt tighter. Zayn sighed, rubbing Harry’s back gently.
“I don’t know Haz, I don’t know”, He spoke, feeling dumb for not being able to properly help his friend. Harry was sensitive, sure, but Louis was being a real dick and Zayn just couldn’t stand it - couldn’t stand to see Harry this sad.
“It’s just, I love him with all my fucking heart. And he doesn’t even acknowledge me! We were together for three fucking years, Z, three years!” Harry cried, his tears soaking Zayn’s shirt. But the raven haired lad didn’t mind that, the only thing that mattered right now was Harry.
“Haz, you gotta let him go. I’m sorry, but it’s true”, Zayn spoke quietly, running his fingers through Harry’s messy curls.
“I know Z, I just don’t want to let him go”, Harry whispered and got up, walking into the bathroom. He closed the door behind him and locked it, slumping down on the toilet seat, sighing deeply. He kicked his shoes off, threw his clothes away and then stumbled into the shower, naked. The only thing that was on his mind was Louis. Louis Louis Louis Louis Louis. Was he not good enough for Louis? Was he not good looking enough? What the hell was wrong with him? Why wasn’t he enough?
Sure, Harry wasn’t perfect; he was too tall, didn’t have smooth skin, had too thick eyebrows and too pink lips. Maybe that was it. Or the fact that he wasn’t thin enough, or muscular. He was just fat, that he knew. And Louis must have left him because of that. Because hell, Eleanor was everything Harry wasn’t. And he hated her for that. Though most of all, Harry hated himself. He hated how he got so fucking attached to Louis and how he couldn’t let go. How he was so in love with Louis who was a fucking bastard that just didn’t care.
Harry sighed, tugging at the roots of his hair. Staring down at his belly he felt like throwing up. He was fat, God, why couldn’t he be perfect and small? Or muscular - he’d take either, but just not this fat that was hanging off of him. It was disgusting, he was disgusting. Harry could feel water running down his cheeks but he wasn’t sure if it were tears or just the water from the shower. Harry was broken. In far more ways than one. But he didn’t let anyone notice it - instead, he covered all the sadness and brokenness with a smile.
December 23rd, 2013//
Harry knocked on the door of his boyfriend’s home, smiling to himself. He was taking Louis out tonight and tomorrow would be Louis’ birthday. He fixed his messy curls that he had put a headband around and looked down at his tight skinny jeans and the white button up shirt that he wore, along with the leathery jacket. It was quite chilly out, but it didn’t really matter. With Louis he was warm, anyway.
Louis opened the door with that angelic smile on his face that Harry absolutely adored. The way the skin by Louis’ eyes crinkles as he smiled and just the way his whole face lit up blew Harry away every single time. Louis looked more like the damn sun as he smiled, so bright and beautiful and freaking perfect. He was everything Harry ever desired or could even have wished for. He truly was the perfect boyfriend.
Harry allowed his eyes to rail over Louis entire being, his smile only widening. Louis was wearing black jeans and a knitted, but fancy-looking, grey sweater. His hair was in it’s usual messy state, but to Harry it looked perfect. Louis always did.
“Hi”, Harry breathed out, smiling as he pulled his boyfriend in for a kiss. Louis’ arms snaked around Harry’s waist as Harry cupped the older boys’ cheeks gently, his thumbs drawing small circles as the two kissed at Louis’ doorstep. Their lips fit together so perfectly, Louis’ lips were soft and warm - they tasted like mint.
“Well hello, Harold”, Louis spoke, a slight smirk ghosting at his lips. His blue eyes were glistening with happiness, something that Harry loved to see.
“Is not my name”, Harry spoke, chuckling lightly as he shook his head, a fond smile on his lips. He then took Louis’ hand in his, looking intently in the older lad’s eyes. They held their gaze for a while, both of them smiling adoringly at the other.
“Let’s go, Lou”, Harry spoke, tugging Louis out of the door and towards his car. Louis laughed, stumbling behind Harry who had much longer legs than he did. Louis often called him a giant because of that.
Once they sat in the car, Harry turned to look at Louis and pressed his lips to the older boys’ cheek. He allowed them to linger there for a brief while before just staring at Louis for a while, his green eyes meeting blue ones.
“I love you Lou, so much”, he spoke in a whisper, smiling ever so lovingly at the blue-eyed boy. Louis smiled widely, pecking Harry’s chin.
“I know, Haz. I love you too”, he said, smiling. And in that moment everything felt so unbelievable perfect, like nothing could ever come between the two of them.
April 5th 2015//
Harry put his messy hair in a bun, sitting on the toilet seat wearing only boxers and a t-shirt. His arms were covered in scars, something that Harry was most definitely not proud of. He hated how the scars ruined his arms, running across his skin leaving jagged white lines that showed way too clearly. He hadn’t intended for them to show this much, at the time it relieved the pain. But right now Harry felt shame. Shame for the scars, for what he had done, shame for the kind of person he had allowed himself to become. All because of one person. Louis Tomlinson.
He sighed, pulling on the blue sweater from the laundry basket, not even caring that it was dirty. Tomorrow was Saturday anyways, so it didn’t matter at all. He made his way out of the bathroom and slumped on his bed, tugging the covers over him. Zayn had left off to somewhere, Harry had no idea where the lad could possibly have gone. Not that it mattered though, Zayn didn’t need to see the new scars on Harry’s thighs or his tear stained and puffy cheeks. He didn’t need to know that Harry still cut.
Harry soon drifted off to a land of dreams. A place where Louis was still his and they were happy. But then, even in Harry’s dream, she had to show up. She just had to show up and take Louis away from Harry. And then it was all just a bloody mess of scars, blades and overwhelming sadness. And Louis Louis Louis Louis.
He wakes up screaming and crying, just like every damn night. And Zayn isn’t there, no one is, he has to sort this out on his own. Because he is alone, there’s no one to help him. No one to tell Harry he’s gonna be alright. There’s just no one around at 3 AM at night when he’d need someone the most. And not just anyone, he needed Louis.
Harry wipes the sweat off his forehead and sits up in bed, glancing outside. It’s dark, the sky is full of stars that are so beautiful. And the moon- it shines so beautifully and Harry is mesmerized. He always loved the stars and the moon and right now he wants nothing more than to go out for a walk. To walk off far away, not even caring where he’d end up. And so he does.
He gets up and shoves on a pair or skinny jeans, a white t-shirt and a dark hoodie that’ll hopefully keep him somewhat warm in the cold night air. He then puts on socks and his boots, searching around for his coat for a while. Then, without making another sound, he steps out of the room, quietly walking through the halls, quietly slipping outside and walking away, letting his feet carry him wherever.
It was so cold and quiet outside. The stars were shining beautifully and the moon shined, making everything look sort of blue. Harry shivered from the cold; of course he hadn’t brought a scarf with him. But it was too late for any of that now. He just wanted to walk, he needed fresh air. It wasn’t like him to do something like this but for once he wanted to go out of his ways. And somehow, he ended up sitting on the swing in the park that he and Louis used to go to a lot. And he just sat there, not moving an inch, no matter how cold he began to feel.
It was around seven in the morning when Harry’s phone rang. His fingers were stiff and practically numb from the cold but somehow he managed to press the answer button, pressing the phone to his ear.
“Haz, where the hell are you!? I’ve asked everyone if they’ve seen you and no one has and you’ve been gone ever since I got home last night at around four, where are you? Are you okay, oh god Haz, you’re okay right?” Zayn’s panicked voice rang trough Harry’s ears, startling him. He hadn’t even thought about Zayn. Then again, he wasn’t supposed to bloody sit on a swing for hours upon hours and almost freeze to death while doing so.
“I’m okay, Zayn, I-I… I’m so fucking cold”, Harry croaked out, his voice shaky and quiet. He was so cold, the coldness had numbed his whole body and he barely felt anything. The swing, the phone in his hand. It was all becoming a blur. Maybe I’ll die now, he thought. It’d be a good way to go. So peaceful and painless. Such a great way to die.
“Harry, where are you? I’m coming to pick you up”, Zayn spoke, sounding even more worried now. Harry let out a shaky breath an shuddered as a coughing fit shook his body, leaving a burning pain in his throat.
“The park”, Harry whispered, before cutting the call off and closing his eyes, feeling peaceful for once. The coldness suddenly seemed welcoming and he was tired. His limbs were sort of numb and he didn’t even bother any attempt of moving. He was so fucking tired that there was no way to describe it. He was just, simply, tired. And he wanted to die.
April 18th 2015//
Harry flickered his eyes open. The light was hurting his eyes, so he immediately closed them. He felt tired and somewhat confused. He felt like he had been asleep for centuries and yet he was so damn tired. Harry had no idea where he was or how he ended up there. The last thing he remembered was walking to the park and sitting down on the swing. He remembered the stars and the moon and the cold.
There was faint beeping and muffled voices. Someone crying, calling out his name. Harry Harry Harry Harry. He didn’t recognize the person though, no matter how hard he tried to. Slowly Harry opened his eyes again, slowly letting them adjust to the light. The walls and ceiling were a sterile white color, there was a steady beeping coming from his left. And there were foggy figures on his right, gasps and mumbling could be heard. And then it all clicked. Harry was in the hospital.
“Harry?” Suddenly he could hear clearly and Zayn was standing there, oh God, Zayn’s eyes were red and his hair was a mess and he looked so fucking tired. He looked sad and relieved and angry all at the same time and Harry really didn’t know what to think of it.
“Oh Haz”, and right then Zayn broke down, wrapping his arms around Harry and hugging him tightly, his tears soaking the piece of clothing that Harry was wearing. Harry had only seen Zayn cry once before. And it pained him more than anything to see his best friend cry like this, knowing he most likely caused it.
“W—Where-” Harry croaked out, his voice hoarse and quiet. Zayn looked at him, his eyebrows creased together and his cheeks stained with tears. He shook his head slightly, wiping his eyes.
“Hospital, Haz. You’re in the hospital. You were out for almost two weeks, fuck, you scared me”, Zayn spoke, sounding distressed. Though Harry couldn’t really blame him. He’d be traumatized too if it were Zayn in his place right now.
“W-What… happened?” Harry asked, vaguely aware of the dryness of his mouth and all the needles pierced under his skin. He didn’t remember what had happened. Did he attempt suicide? In all honesty, he had no clue. It could have been anything.
“You.. You almost died from the cold, Haz”, Zayn whispered, his eyes sorrowful - though there was a hint of anger in there.
“How could you be so irresponsible?” Zayn asked, trying his best not to raise his voice but either way, Harry cringed at the sudden loudness of his voice. Zayn sighed, looking at Harry apologetically. But it was okay, everything was okay. Everything but Harry was okay, because Harry was broken and a mess.
“I-I’m sorry Zayn”, Harry whispered, tears coating his eyelashes, his lips trembling. He reached up to wipe his eyes, wincing at the soreness of his arms. Only then he realized that his mother wasn’t there. He frowned in confusion, looking around.
“Why isn’t my mom here?” He asked quietly, looking at Zayn who remained silent for a few minutes.
“She’s… She’s with Gemma. But they’re on their way here Haz, I promise”, he spoke, watching the curly haired lad who looked so completely shattered and lost that it was almost indescribable. This was nothing like the Harry me met a couple years ago. This was just a sad and dull version of that Harry, a shell that held the shards of what was left of Harry Styles.
May 2nd 2015//
Harry sat in the park, on the oh so familiar swing. The birds were chirping and the sun was shining, some flowers growing in the grass. Summer was coming, which meant Harry got to go back to his mother and sister - he rarely saw them nowadays. He missed them, a lot. But summer also meant he didn’t have to see Louis. Maybe Harry would be happier after the summer, maybe he’d wear a real smile instead of a fake one. He didn’t know, but he hoped for the best.
His green eyes scanned over the sand and the grass and the small colorful flowers. Everything was so beautiful, in all honesty. So beautiful it was almost unbelievable. As he sat there, wearing his signature skinny jeans, a blue sweatshirt and brown boots, he thought of everything that had happened. The night he went to the park, the hospital, going back to school. And Louis. Oh God, Louis, who had asked him if he was okay because Harry hadn’t been in school for ages. And Harry just nodded, not daring to speak because he might cry.
Maybe it was for the best though, all of this. Maybe Louis and Harry weren’t destined after all. Though if they wouldn’t have been destined, why was the blue eyes lad sitting on the bench on the other side of the park, studying the boy with curly hair? Smiling at the way his dimples showed when he smiled or the way his hair flailed about in the slight wind?
Louis still loved Harry, as much as he tried to deny it. And Harry? He was just trying to get over Louis, who had caused him so much pain. And yes, he loved Louis more than the moon loved the sun or the stars loved the night sky. But Louis was bad for him, he’d eventually destroy Harry - he knew that now.
So when he noticed the lad with shaggy brown hair sitting on the bench, studying Harry, he walked away. Harry stuffed his hands in his pockets, letting his feet carry him away. Away from the park, away from Louis, away from their shared memories.
But most of all, away from all the sadness and pain. Away from Louis Louis Louis Louis, the one that had kept him going for so long, only to break him. Away from it all.
And all Louis could do was watch as the curly haired lad disappeared, his long legs moving as he walked away quickly, his shoulders hunched and hands stuffed in his pockets.
Louis loved Harry, but that realization had come too late.