next to you ❀ l.s.

ten - at least i feel something (even if it hurts like hell)

Harry had let himself get too comfortable. He had let himself hope that he could be happy, at least for a while, but that wonderful period of peace and happiness and new friends and drinking and used books didn't last nearly long enough. Only until mid-October, actually -- right around midterms for the college boys and right around Halloween decorations at the bookstore.

Ironically, Harry's favorite time of year.

He had been finding books everywhere -- even inside of his apartment and in his personal desk drawer at work. Most of the books were ones that he had already read, which confused him beyond belief. His first guess was Liam, because his friend was always looking out for him -- making sure he had enough to eat and that he was getting enough sleep. Liam had denied his involvement multiple times, but by the knowing glint in the other boy's eyes, Harry knew that he was withholding information.

But who was he protecting?

At that point, Harry didn't realize that he would miss the days when his thoughts were consumed with trying to figure out who was behind the mysterious gifts; the tiny surprises that never failed to both perplex him and brighten his day, and that made his timid heart feel ten sizes too big to belong in his chest.

His Thursday had started out just like any other Thursday. He had met Niall at the cafe for an early breakfast, and then they had moved over to the bookstore around nine. Harry had helped the Irish boy go through about a hundred flashcards for his chemistry exam until both of them knew every single term by heart, and honestly, he couldn't think of any other way he would've rather spent his morning.

Then, to top it all off, Liam and Louis had dropped by before their afternoon classes, and the four of them had started with the Halloween decorations. Harry had been mildly concerned about getting fired -- either for their excessive rowdiness or their mediocre decorating skills -- but every time he stole a glance at Mr. Smith, the man was smiling widely.

And besides, Harry had been a little caught up -- in blue eyes, and lingering touches, and that unique voice that he had grown to love so much. As soon as Louis entered a room, there wasn't much that could distract him from the warmth that spread through his chest.

Happiness always vanished as abruptly as it had appeared.

Because then he had gone to see his mum, only because she had been calling and texting him day in and day out for weeks. He always tried to limit his visits to just one day, but she had begged him over the phone to stay the night, so he had.

He always gave in. He always gave in much too easily. And he was already paying for it.

His fingers trembled as he typed out a text to Liam, knowing that even as he did it that he would regret confiding in his friend. As much as he always hated to admit it, he needed help. He didn't have even an ounce of confidence in his ability to get through the night alone. He hated to think of what might happen -- of what he might do -- if he had to spend the next few hours in his apartment completely and utterly alone with his terrifying thoughts.

So he texted Liam, keeping his message as brief and as vague as possible, just like always when it came to talking about himself: "I did something stupid."

Harry couldn't stop shaking.

The key quivered in his hands as he fumbled to fit it into the lock in his front door, scraping noisily against the metal. His breathing was ragged, and all he could focus on was making it into his apartment before the swirling hurricane of his impending panic attack actually hit.

He had asked for it. He had wanted it. He had made Steven happy. That was all that mattered.

Harry exhaled sharply as he fell through his front door, hitting the floor with a soft thud. He dragged his body out of the way so that he could push the door shut behind him before he sank back against it, tugging his knees to his chest. He felt sick from how violently he was shivering.