Mean to Me ♡ Larry

3.5

Chapter 35: Why are you so mean to me?

Past

Arthur steps into the bakery, his hands trembling with nerves and face full of worry. As soon as he steps onto the old, scratched floorboards, his eyes begin dancing around in search of Harry. He sighs when he finds him sitting at one of the tables, staring out of the window, with his face pulled into a saddened look. "Hazza," Arthur whispers and carefully makes his way over, hoping not to startle Harry.

Harry turns just in time to see the blue-eyed boy and gives him a forced smile, standing up with a pained whine to give Arthur a gentle hug. He wraps his arms around the boy, careful not to knock his broken ribs too much against him.

"Oh God, look at you," Arthur murmurs, looking at Harry's black and blue, cut up forehead, his black eyes and the cast that covers his wrist. Harry lifts up some curls with a sad sigh and Arthur gasps loudly at the large insition that had been sealed with stitches. "Hazza. This is disgusting." Harry falters and quickly drops his hair. Sensing his insecurity, the fluffy fringed boy speaks up again. "Not you! Them, those boys are disgusting. They can rot in hell for what they did to you."

Harry sits back down, and cups his head in his hand, his elbow bent against the table and his other bent against his chest. A small shrug pushes its wah through his shoulders. "They won't care," Harry tells him, speaking for the first time since Arthur had come in. His voice is gravely and low like all the energy had been drained from him.

"You were in the hospital for over there weeks, Harry, you had to have surgery, if they don't care," Arthur growls and balls his fists beside his waist. "They deserve a life of misery, that's all I am saying." Arthur shrugs and sits down across from Harry, taking the boy's hand in his own. "What can I do to help you?" He asks, looking at his friend's sad eyes.

Harry stares at the table blankly, his lips pulled down into a frown. "I don't know if there is anything you can do. I'm just tired of being so alone," Harry begins to tear up and he covers his face as gently as possible, his shoulders trembling with soft cries. "I hate them so much," he whispers, licking at his wet, red-bitten lips. "They make me feel worthless every single day of my life."

Arthur wipes at his own eyes and inhales a shaky breath. He moves to kneel next to Harry, one hand grabbing onto the wooden chair Harry sits on, while the other reaches for Harry's thigh, rubbing gently against it, not missing the hiss the falls from Harry's lips.

"Did they hurt your thighs as well?" Arthur whispers, looking up at Harry with wide eyes filled with pain for the boy in front of him. Harry just shakes his head, but then begins to cry harder. "Haz, darling, come here." The older pulls him in for an awkwardly placed hug, letting Harry cry against his shoulder in sobs, all his built-up emotions leaving his body. "Are you hungry?"

Harry pulls back with a sniffle and soft laugh, his eyebrows furrowed and lips pulled into an amused smile. "Am I what?" Arthur reaches forward and traces his thumb over Harry's lip, that has a little cut on it.

"Are you hungry, love? Is there anything you want to eat?" Arthur laughs, and Harry nods, shooting him a wide grin. "Tell me what your little tummy desires and I'll go buy it for you - anything at all."

"Pizza?" Harry squeaks out in a soft voice, raising his eyebrows in question. And Arthur nods immediately, leaning forward slowly to peck Harry's lips, which Harry smiles widely at.

"What flavour?" Harry holds the older's hand in his own, lips twisted in thought, his eyes sparkling as they look over Arthur. After a moment, they decide on meat lovers and with a kiss on the cheek, Arthur is leaving Harry alone in the bakery.

As soon as Harry sees he is out of sight through the window, his smile drops again. With a pain-filled whine, he rests his head against the table, trying to ignore the unbearable throbbing that shoots through his head. He closes his eyes and tries to take deep breaths, his good hand clenching and unclenching against the table.

The bell to the door rings, but Harry doesn't look up, assuming it is Arthur, who had forgotten something.

"Harry," the tiny voice says in a soft tone and Harry's heart quickens. He snaps his head up, hand instantly slapping against his forehead as pain drives through his head. "A-are you okay?"

Louis steps forward, his hand out in a gesture of help, but he places it down when Harry flinches and gives him a fearful look. "What are you doing here, Lewis?" Harry's tone is far from friendly, and Louis flinches at the coldness of it, his body cowering slightly.

"Are you okay?... Th-the school told the class you had to have surgery for a serious head injury."

"Look, Lewis, if you're here because you're worried I am going to tell on you, don't worry. I haven't." Harry shakily stands up and walks over to the bakery bench, wanting to have an extra layer of things between him and Louis, just in case.

"I don't care if you tell - I would prefer it if you did. I feel so guilty, Harry, it was never meant to go that far." Louis bites his trembling lower lip and pockets his hands, looking down at the ground.

Harry scoffs and grips onto the bench. "It shouldn't have happened at all!" He yells and Louis whimpers, eyes widening and body shaking. "You and Stan are without a doubt the most disgusting, pathetic people I have ever met, and I would rather die than spend another minute talking to you."

"I'm so sor-"

"Get out!" Harry cries and Louis begins to cry as well, eyes glancing over Harry's beaten face with sorrow in his heart. "I hate you!"

Louis nods in understanding, ignoring the pang in his heart and ache in his chest. He cups his thin wrist with his opposite hand, squeezing tightly. He gives Harry one last pleading look, to which the curly-haired boy shrugs off, looking down at the old fashioned counter he had stood behind since turning fifteen.

Louis begins to leave, his head hung low as he walks to the door. Then and there is when Harry gains the courage to ask the question he had been longing to know the answer of for years now. But, Louis doesn't respond, he just turns around stares with a pleading expression full of pain, before leaving and never turning back.

"Why are you so mean to me?!"

A/N: Happy New Year! I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please let me know your thoughts! xo