sdmn one sh~i~ts

Hope /kshaw

words: 1107
warnings: depression- but come on, we expected this, didn't we? ⚠️

There were good days.

There were good days, where Harry sat in the living room with his friends, laughing and playing seemingly endless rounds of Fifa while trying not to scream too loud as he continuously missed the goal by miles.

Good days, where Harry went out and greeted the world with an honest smile plastered on his face while walking through the nearby park, music blasting through his ears, or chatter never dying on his lips.

Even amazing days, where Harry strolled through the dark corners of London, hand clasped tightly over Jj's, never intending to let go while they were pushing and pulling each other through the dark streets, uncaring of any lingering gazes while their laughter made promise after promise to the night sky.

It was the little things that made Harry push through the bad days.

Little things, like the muted sounds of clashing and banging cutlery or quiet shuffling of feet that swept through the house at all hours of day and night, never once leaving him in silence with his thoughts.

Or like the warm breath fanning over the back of his neck in the darkness of his room, paired up with the long arms embracing his smaller frame from behind, as Jj's soft voice managed to lull him into a peaceful sleep.

But even all that wasn't always enough.

The days where Harry couldn't get out of bed, where his friends kept channeling worried, pitying looks at him but never daring to speak up about it out of fear of breaking Harry even more. Those days stuck with him more than the good days.

It wasn't the days where Harry was nearly convinced that he wouldn't need those god-awful pills anymore to feel better. Not the days where Harry was the one requesting to go bowling as a 7-member group. Not the days where he could tell his therapist about how he thought he'd gotten better.

It was the days where he considered chugging the whole contents of the prescribed cardboard box on his nightstand. The days where he wouldn't even answer Jj's soft voice when asked if he had any preferences of what they could be doing on that day. The days where he broke down in Jj's arms because he wasn't getting better.

It's those days that get stuck in his brain the most.

It scared him.

It scared him, the thought of never getting better. Of having to live off stupid pills forever. Of having his friends be extra careful around him at the beginning of each day while waiting for Jj to figure out if it was going to be a good day or a bad one for the youngest.

It made him angry. Mainly at himself, for not being able to function normally despite having everything and more anyone could ever wish for.

Angry at himself for making his best friends think they have to behave differently, carefully, while in his presence.

But most of all, it all exhausts him.

It exhausts him to force a smile on demand while being dragged for a day out or filming shoot. Pains him to act as something he's not.

Smile, Harry!

Who are you most thankful for to be able to live such a privileged life?

Wow, you've gotten awfully arrogant.

Don't you care at all?

He doesn't. But he does.

He cares that he burdens his whole group with his temper. He cares that he makes Jj paint on his happy face in public, too.

He cares, because it's the only thing that makes him feel something.

It makes him feel, well, disappointed, for one thing, but also incredibly aspired to pull through. To make his best friends proud. To make Jj proud.

Because the twinkle in Jj's eyes when Harry stumbles out of their shared room into the kitchen to greet him with a soft kiss to the cheek, on a day where Harry originally nodded in confirmation to the 'that kind of day?' question makes his heart swell with unadorned pride.

It makes him want to see more of Jj's big smile and soft laugh that Harry himself had caused, because that's what makes him want to get better.

That's what makes him feel like himself again.

Jj's breathy laugh and wide eyes as Harry sneaks up on him in the kitchen, only to poke his sides to make the other turn around and let out an exaggerated call of his name, before breaking into giggles right along with the younger man, pressing a soft kiss to his lips and only pulling back when the other boys could be heard piling out of their rooms and into the kitchen.

That's what completes Harry while he's breaking apart.

Because next to the cold disappointment and warm pride, Jj makes Harry feel hope. Inspiration.

Because on the days where Harry will stare at his soggy cereal or his apathic reflection in the black coffee in front of him, Jj will sit down next to him, their sides touching from shoulders to thighs while the older man would begin to talk to Harry about everything and nothing until, eventually, the younger will either crack a smile or shed a tear, but no matter what, Jj would always be right there to either make Harry give a wholehearted laugh or wrap him in a tight hug full of love and promises and hope.

It wasn't easy, Harry wasn't going to deny that. Hasn't denied it since he acknowledged the battle fate had decided to throw his way. But somehow, while watching Jj's eyes shine in the moon-illuminated room after Harry recovered from laughing so hard that his stomach ached, it seemed to become easier and easier with each breath, each laugh or each loving kiss they both shared with each other.

And maybe things won't be alright in the long run, but Harry feels like there's a good enough chance that they will be when he gets to hear Jj's heartbeat against his chest, and feel his long arms around his waist, and he decides in that moment that he won't stop wanting to see good days with Jj's proud, twinkling eyes directed solemnly at him- and only him.

- - -
complete filler chapter imo
still hope you enjoyed :)))