Scars [Book 1]✅

Eighteen

Eh who cares about 20 reads

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Harry was a wreck when he woke up only a bit over an hour later. He didn't remember why or how he fell asleep at first, but then when he saw his red nose reflecting to him through the mirror, the moment came rushing back to him.

He was mad at himself. He didn't want to tell Louis to go away. He wanted the older boy to hug him and tell him it's okay. But he couldn't take it. The voices were demanding and persuading demons that overtook his opinion on the situation all the time. Especially then since he hadn't taken his medication since he had been there so far, he hadn't been able to.

He wanted to call for his mum, to have her get him out of the place he was being held hostage in. For he hated hospitals. He despised everything about them. Everywhere he looked there was either white, grey, or overused grins on the nurses faces, and he wondered how their lips hadn't fallen off from smiling so much.

That and the smell of chemicals and medicine. It was like a horrid stench that he couldn't get out of his nose. Though the overall reason why Harry hated hospitals were the reasons that people were there. Every single reason someone would be at a hospital is bad and horrible. Sometimes it's a broken bone, or bruises and cuts, or stitches and surgery because you have something wrong. Or sometimes it's death, or even birth, because even though birth is bringing a human being into the world, it puts the woman in pain during the process. And Harry doesn't like pain. He's had too much of it. He's sick of it.

Or sometimes, just sometimes it's because you have demons in your head telling you to starve yourself, and slice open your skin, or because of people beating you up for being gay. Which is a perfect description for Harry's visit in the hospital.

Although even with these thoughts, even knowing that it was one of the reasons why he was not okay, Harry's wrists itched. They itched and stung. And they were being blocked by the snug bandage that the doctor had wrapped securely around his cuts. But he wanted to rip it off, and itch his cuts, press on them until they opened up and bled. All because he remembered what he thought when he pulled himself into the school bathroom the day he fainted and was put here. He remembered that he told himself that he deserved the beating, and that he was going to punish himself when he got home. Plus, that's what the voices in his head were telling him to do. That's what they wanted.

He tried ignoring the feeling, and patted his leg instead, creating a random tune against his thigh. Though he stopped after a minute, grimacing at the size of his thighs. They were huge. At least he thought so. When he looked at them, or any part of his body, he just saw that invisible fat, that he didn't have, hanging off.

"Louis," he whispered under his breath, so quiet that even the nurse and his mum in the room hadn't heard him.

Harry wanted Louis. He knew that he told him to go away and told him not to come back, but he didn't mean it. All the while he said that he was honestly thinking "don't leave me" and "stay right here". He was just too weak to do anything besides what the voices told him.

"Mum," he said, louder than before. She looked up, smiling slightly.

"How you feelin, love?" she asked, sitting next to him and gently stroking her son's fluffy curls.

"W-Where's Louis?" he whimpered, not that he meant to. It just came out that way.

Harry's mum gulped, and held up her finger, gesturing for him to wait as she walked out of the room. He could hear a couple of voices, one that he recognized as his mother, and one that he immediately recognized as Louis' as he walked into the room, smiling sadly. Louis sat down, and as Anne and the nurse left the room Harry's eyes filled with tears. "I'm sorry," he told him, pursing his lips.

"No Harry, don't be sorry, it isn't your fault," Louis cooed, standing from the plastic seat and slumping softly down next to Harry, wrapping his arms around the younger boy. Harry snuggled himself into Louis' arms, only letting a couple more tears escape before Louis pulled away, hand cupping Harry's warm cheek. They looked at each other, breathing uneven and gazes flickering to lips and eyes.

"Can I.... kiss you?" Louis asked, his eyes glued on Harry's plump, dark lips.

Harry didn't answer. He just nodded before the older boy was latching their lips together. Harry kissed back instantly, moving his lips slowly against Louis'. And although Harry was like a scared little lamb most of the time, his nerves vanished for the time being, and he reached his shaky hand forward to rest it on the nape of Louis' neck, holding him closer. Louis smiled, continuing to kiss Harry softly, pressing gentle kisses to the soft lips in front of him.

Harry chuckled, kissing Louis once more before pulling away. Louis smiled, running his thumb smoothly over the dimple that was dented in Harry's cheek. He thought, wow, because to him Harry was just the cutest thing when he was happy.

"W-What?" Harry asked sheepishly, his cheeks turning a bright red. Louis' face went blank, and he tilted his head when he realized he said that out loud.

"Oh, uhm I just uh, thought you were cute," he mumbled, feeling slightly embarrassed.

Harry on the other hand disagreed, but he let Louis have his moment anyways. He changed the topic instead. "I get out tomorrow," he told Louis, "but I don't get to go back to school until next week," he shrugged, biting his lip. And suddenly Louis gasped, remembering school. He had gotten suspended for two days, so he wouldn't have to go to school until Monday, which is why he had been able to visit Harry. But he also remembered why he got suspended.

"I know, that it was uh Sam, who beat you up," Louis spoke softly, searching Harry's face for a sign of sadness, discomfort, or anything other than okay. Though Harry just looked down, staring at the white blanket. He stared at the stitching in the thin material, not looking back up at the boy with the wondering gaze.

Louis continued, "I-I uhm, I punched him in the face," he told him. Harry's head snapped up, his eyes wide and curious as Louis went on, "I was mad and I knew he was the only one who would do it on his own without Zayn. The other guys they hang out with wouldn't of done it. A-And I just, I just got so mad and I couldn't deal with him getting away, with it so I just, you know, hit him," he said sheepishly, not liking the frown on the younger boys face.

"Why?"

"What do you mean? Why what?"

"Why did you hurt him?" Harry explained, "I get hurt almost every day. I am hurt every day, 24/7, both mentally and physically. I absolutely despise and hate it. I don't like hurting at all. So, I don't care if he beat me up, I don't like seeing others hurt, I know what it's like," he stopped, his voice quiet at the end, "just, don't hurt anyone," Harry said firmly, looking down.

Louis felt bad, and bit his lip, "Sorry," he muttered, "I just, wanted to protect you. I told him not to bother with you and..." he tailed off, but Harry nodded.

"Thanks," he said, his lip twitching into a small smile, and he stayed silent for a minute, thinking about Louis. Then he smiled slowly, "You'll protect me?" he asked hopefully.

Louis smiled proudly, nodding, "Course I will! Always."

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At least 10 reads for an update