Guns & Roses (Larry Stylinson)

Pasts

***Many of you have probably read my author's note, and I am still taking a break. This chapter was completed prior to that note, so I am updating it now to leave with you while I take some time away. Thank you for understanding.***

Trigger Warning: This chapter deals with mentions of death and suicide. It also deals with abuse. I tried to handle these topics as delicately as possible, but please let me know if anything at all is too much.

Stay safe, loves. ❤

Chapter 27:

I finished making the tea for both of us, setting a glass down in front of Harry as I took my own into my hands. I took a sip of the warm liquid, enjoying the way it warmed my throat, and I looked over at Harry. He was staring into his cup of tea, just holding it in his hands.

"So, who's going first?" I wondered aloud.

Both topics that we were going to discuss were very heavy, and I knew that. Harry would be discussing deep and personal emotions, and I would be talking about my parents without divulging too much of my past. Of course, I would also be talking about my parents with someone who knew nothing about them for the very first time. It was my story to paint; my story to tell.

"I can."

Harry paused, taking a moment to close his eyes and take a deep breath.

"You wanted to know what I was thinking about on the porch last night." I nodded along to his words. He set down his cup of tea and placed his palms down onto his knees. He looked like a small child who was hurt.

He took another deep breath, in and out, and then he opened his eyes to meet my own. He gave a small smile, but this one was almost lifeless. It was difficult to understand.

"Last night wasn't an easy one," He began, and I found that I was listening intently, moreso than I ever did about missions. "The day was good, but my... my mind caught up to me during the night. I tried to sleep, but it was no use."

"What do you mean your mind caught up to you? What kind of thoughts did you have?" I pressed, trying to understand.

He tried to smile more as he spoke, but I could tell that each word was like a fresh stab wound. "Dangerous ones," He whispered in a broken voice. "Thoughts about how... nobody would miss me if I were to disappear."

A part of me expected to hear those words, but I wasn't ready for the admission. It still shook me to the core and took me by surprise.

"Everyone in this town loves you. All they do is talk about how kind and caring you are," I justified, trying to make him see reason, but he shook his head gently.

"That's not me. I'm not kind and caring. Those are qualities. If they knew me-- the real me beneath the boy who offers help wherever I can-- what would they think? If they knew about all of my sadness, would they even bother helping or just ignore it because it didn't meet their needs?" He wondered, and I think that I knew where he was coming from.

"You feel like nobody knows you, but if you let them in, they wouldn't like what they saw?"

Harry nodded, eyes beginning to water with something close to shame. He didn't need to feel such a thing.

"Nobody wants to be around someone who's constantly depressed," He whispered in a rather hurt tone. "I thought about ending it, um... my life."

I shook my head quickly, but I didn't interrupt. I couldn't. It was something I never wanted to hear.

"It was particularly hard to ignore those thoughts last night. I wanted to. Thought that it would be the best option to end all of this pain, but I... I couldn't do it." Thick and heavy tears were streaming down his cheeks now, but Harry's voice stayed somewhat leveled. "The only way to stop myself was to get out of my house. So, I sat on the porch, and I looked at the moon. I found that, if I did end everything, I wouldn't mind such a beautiful full moon being the last thing I saw."