Mean to Me ♡ Larry

4.9

Chapter 49: Therapy

Present

It had been three days since Harry had been to work, three days since he had ran into Stan. Facing Louis was becoming too hard. Not because of their past, but because no matter how hard he tries, Harry can’t control his feelings for the boy. Every time he sees him he wants to melt in a puddle and forgive him, but Harry knows it is not that simple. He knows Louis has put him through too much to do that. He owes it to his younger self, the younger self who would flinch every time Louis would just look at him. He can't let him down.

Harry had been laying in bed for those three days, miserable about the way everything had turned out. Especially miserable about the fact Stan picked up Louis’ phone that night and obviously something had happened judging by the handprints. And it made Harry feel sick with jealousy. Why does Stan deserve Louis? He threatened to hurt him! Even if Louis had treated him just as bad when they were kids… There was something different about him that made Harry drawn to him. 

Harry sits up from where he is laying on his bed and brushes his ring filled hands over his face, sighing in exhaustion, his whole body deflating. He had organised an appointment with the therapist he had gotten a few years ago when he started getting the nightmares and having multiple panic attacks throughout the day. She helped him a lot. So much so that he barely had to go to her anymore, only when his scripts ran out.

He throws off his blankets and stumbles his way into the bathroom. He starts the shower and looks at himself in the mirror. Drained. That is one way to describe his features at the moment. His skin is pale, eyes bloodshot and hair tangled and greasy. It is obvious by his appearance that he hadn’t been looking after himself the past few days. 

He strips off his clothes with a hiss, the insides of his grey sweatpants flooded in red and his thighs heated. The sting of the new cuts worsening when he steps into the shower, the water hitting harshly against them, bloody water trailing down his legs.

-*-

Harry walks into his therapists office. She immediately beams when she sees him and he smiles back at her. Jane was her name and her and Harry got along great, which is one of the reasons he had been so willing to continue going to her after Perrie had begged him to get help when first seeing his cut up legs and hearing his screams at night, as well as his daily panic attacks.

"Hi, Harry!" She chirps and motions for him to sit down.

"Hi, Jane! How are you?" Harry happily sits down on the comfy, grey chair. The room is white with splashes of colours throughout, like plants and artwork. It was bright and comforting.

"I'm well, thank you, Harry!" She flips through her notes quickly, face pulled into a thoughtful look. "So, you'll need a script redone today?" She glances up, her green eyed bordered by long, natural lashes. She seems in her forties, her deep brown hair pulled into a bun, greying at the roots. She always wears bright, floral, flowy clothing, which Harry thinks looks lovely on her.

"Yes... I am out of my antidepressants and anxiety meds." Harry rubs his hands over his jeans as they begin to become clammy with nerves. "And uh, sleep medication as well."

She seems to pause from where she is writing and signing the medication script for Harry. "Sleep medication? Have you been having your dreams again?"

Harry hums and squirms nervously. "They are different, though."

"Would you mind talking me through it?" Harry inhales shakily and nods. "Take your time."

“They used to be… Just blurry figures and voices, they weren’t detailed. Now they are. The one I had the other night felt so real, not that the others didn’t, but this one was… strange.” He swallows thickly. "I think—uh, I think I may know why."

She writes down what Harry is saying and gives him a comforting smile. "Why do you think they have changed?"

"I have been somewhat dating this boy..." Harry looks down as he speaks. "He—um. He lied to me about who he was and it turns out—I found out he was one of my bullies. I haven't been well," Harry taps on his head, right over his scar, "up here since."

"How about we start from the beginning? Lets talk this out. I'm sure it is weighing down on you."

-*-

When Harry leaves the office, he immediately goes to the shop close by and gets himself a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He lights one up as he stands just outside his car. Rain spits slowly, misty water fluttering against his skin.

"You should come up for a few days. I have not been feeling the best. I miss you. We are having drinks for the new workmate Friday, you should come," Harry speaks into his phone, moving to lean against his car. He inhales the cigarette, clearing his throat instantly after, not very used of the taste and feel of them in his throat.

"I'd love that, Haz! I'll book a hotel as soon as we get off the phone."

"Are you kidding?" Harry chuckles. "You will obviously be staying with me. Don't be silly."

"Okay, okay. You've convinced me."

Harry hears laughter on the end and smiles at the sound of it. "I better get to driving home. I'll message you later. Love you."

"Love you too."

After a quick goodbye, Harry opens his emails and composes a new document, addressed to everyone at his workplace. He types out a message about drinks for Liam's arrival at the business, which he had previously asked Liam about, and then he sends it.

"Let's hope a night out will be good for me."

A/N: Hi lovelies! How are you? :)

- Did you enjoy this chapter?

- Thoughts on Harry going to therapy?

- Thoughts on Harry on antidepressants and anxiety medication?

- Who do you think was on the phone?

- What do you think will happen at these work drinks?

- How do you think Harry is feeling right now? What is he struggling with the most?

Please leave me some comments to read over! And I hope you all have a lovely day/night! <3