Petal [h.s.]

Chapter 32

Violet.

"I relapsed on Sunday."

My eyes widened at Harry's words and it suddenly became hard to breathe again even though I was well on my way to recovering from the strangling. "W-What? What do you mean?" I stammered in a whisper, looking at him intently.

Harry shifted in his seat on the couch and we both flicked our heads towards Louis who laughed loudly from the other side of the room at something Niall had said. I took Harry's hand to get his attention. "Can we go somewhere private to talk about this?"

He nodded and helped me up to my feet before we exited the living room and he lead me back to his room. We sat down on the bed next to each other and I instantly tucked my legs underneath me and turned around so I could face him. I wanted to see his face. He sat sideways still, not meeting my line of vision directly.

"Don't be angry." He mumbled, fiddling with his fingers and I reached my hand up to touch his shoulder. "I'm not angry, Harry. I could never." I frowned.

It was true, I could never be angry at anything like this. Even though I had never struggled with addiction, I had seen multiple times how difficult it was. Getting clean was a huge recovery process that didn't end once your body got rid of the toxins. It was a process that took years, and even then the risk of relapsing was one that they were faced with on the daily. Being a recovering addict meant having to be strong for every day for the rest of your life, and no one could do that.

"When you left on Saturday, I was absolutely out of it. I trashed my own living room, having Louis there to calm me down. Ian couldn't even look at me. They ended up spending the night at my place because Louis was taking care of both of us. Eleanor came over too to help keep an eye on both Ian and me." He begun, still looking down to his own lap while his fingers twisted the rings around his other hand. He was more nervous than I had ever seen him.

I kept squeezing his shoulder gently, signalling him it was okay to continue.

"And then on Sunday I spent the day there, but it was so tense. Ian was ready to rip my face off, and I felt so guilty about what I'd said to you. And you didn't answer my text and you hadn't called and I didn't know what to do. So Sunday night was the gang thing, and Jenny was fucking annoying me so much." He sighed.

"And then I just... I didn't even think about it. I had been drinking, was completely out of it. And then I just did it. I did a line, and then another." Harry's voice died in a whisper and I could hear him sniffing.

He was crying.

"Hey." I cooed, using my good arm to cup his cheek and turn his head towards me. I tried to give him the most comforting, caring and sympathetic look I could muster in hopes of calming him down. I felt the own tears in my eyes started to leak at the idea that I was part of the reason Harry relapsed.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have left." I whispered, running my thumb over his cheek.

"It's not your fault, Violet. Don't blame yourself for the fucking mess I made." He sighed, rubbing his forehead.

"And what happened after?" I scooted a bit closer so I didn't have to stretch my body so much to reach him and I noticed him leaning into me a bit more.

"I called Marcus the next day. Honestly, the coke felt horrible. Like it almost made me sick."

"Your body's not used to it anymore. It's a foreign thing that it rejects when you first do it. Did you do any more after that night?" I asked and Harry quickly shook his head. "No, once I was sober, I realized how fucking stupid it was."

He reached his hand into the collar of his shirt and took the chip-pendant, resting it in his hand. "I don't deserve this." He mumbled, bringing the necklace over his head to take it off. He held it out for me to take. "Give this back to me after seven days, okay?"