sdmn one sh~i~ts

Anguished Eyes /minishaw

words: 2571
warnings: everything, pretty much everything i could warn you about is in this one⚠️

Harry realised his brain was like a pit at three in the morning, when his insomnia hit the hardest.

He had always had problems, it wasn't really a secret. His six closest friends knew this too- they all tried to help him as much as possible, but Harry thinks that sometimes you just can't fix what's broken.

He was staring out the window. The sky, as clear as a spring morning, despite it being the depths of winter, was covered in stars. Each one, seemingly so close to each other, when in reality, they were all they were all millions of light years spaced apart. Harry thought he could relate to that space, as confusing as it sounded. The first time he tried to explain it to someone was a mess, to say the least. He was better at explaining how he felt now, even if he didn't like it.

***

"I'm like the stars, Si. They're like my thoughts." Harry murmured into the air, his head leaning on Simon's shoulder.

"You're thoughts are like the stars, Boggo? What do you mean?"

Harry sighed, still leaning his head on the elders shoulder. "My thoughts, they can be so bright, like the stars themselves. Everyone thinks they're always that bright, like how when we look at the sky all of the starts are really close together. As if I'm always this sunny person who only sees goon in the world," he trailed off, sighing again.

Simon hummed. He knew that this was hard for the younger to talk about, his childhood experiences and his anxiety created blocks, almost like walls, barricading his thoughts from other people, making him seem emotionless on the really bad days. He didn't want to disturb Harry's train of thought, in the hopes of the younger finally fully opening up to him. They still didn't really know much about Harry yet, after all. They'd all been friends for countless years now,  and Simon was honestly surprised that he hadn't opened up already.

"Do you ever get dark thoughts, Si?" Harry asked.

"Dark thoughts? In what sense?"

"Like, that you're never going to be good enough? Or that, I don't know, people just pretend to like you out of pity? Maybe... maybe wanting to hurt? To feel something other than emptiness? Because I do, I do a lot of the time."

Simon didn't know what to say. He had no words of comfort ready to spew. "I can't say I've ever felt that bad, the most I have is the odd bout of insomnia."

Harry smiler softly. He was glad that his friend didn't feel the same way he did.

"It's why my thoughts are like the stars, Si. The bright ones are so far away from each other, and I feel so empty, so, so empty, all of the time." Harry sniffled. "I wish I didn't, but I can't stop them, the bad thoughts. They're like how in space there's no oxygen."

Harry paused, and Simon grew confused. He was trying to understand what Harry was saying, but he was never good with connecting  metaphorical dots on the top of his head.

"Like no oxygen?"

Harry hummed. "Yeah," he whispered. "The good thoughts are all suffocated. Because of the lack of oxygen that the bad ones provide. Like humans. We need oxygen to survive, right?" Simon nodded, still listening intently.