Misery Loves Company (H.Styles Fanfic)

Chapter 43

Early update because @aihe99 requested an double update and I kinda felt bad leaving you like that. So, I thought why not do another update but that means I won't update the next chapter immediately.

Enjoy!!(:

-katexx

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Chapter 43

I did faint. Probably from the amount of fear rushing through my veins, or the shouting coming from Harry as soon as he saw the marks, but I fainted. It’s like my heartbeat was so fast that it just stopped and let me fall limp on the bed, head first. I tried crying and screaming back at him but my shortened breath wouldn’t allow me. Maybe the migraine didn’t help.

But when I wake up just a few minutes later, I’m lying on my stomach in bed, still naked and on top of the covers, but I’m dripping in cold sweats. As soon as I open my eyes, the walls start spinning just like they did before I fell, so I snap them shut again. I can hear Harry humming and shuffling with things on the bed next to me, and a small pressure is applied on my leg, followed by a bearable burning sensation. 

I reach blindly to move my hair from sticking to my sweaty forehead and he stops moving. “Do you want an icepack, love? You’re running a fever.”

His voice is a lot gentler than it was a few minutes earlier, but there is still a certain edge to it that makes my skin crawl. I trust him. I have to trust him. I shake my head lightly, the dizziness already too intense to move more, but he soothes the pain by pressing gently with a wet rag onto my leg in a circular motion. 

“You should eat something. You haven’t eaten much today.”

I haven’t eaten much in a while, to be honest. But he doesn’t need to know this. I don’t complain when he presses an icy cold towel on my back, which instantly calms the excessive sweating from my pores. “Thank you,” I mumble, opening my eyes. A rush of guilt hits me when I notice his arousal gone as he sits on the bed by my side, applying bandages to the cuts on my leg. “You don’t need to take care of me.”

Harry sighs, letting go of whatever is in his hand and rubbing the towel off my back. “I’d rather take care of you than let you take care of yourself. Obviously you can’t do it right.”

Ouch. 

He places a larger towel on me to cover my naked body and I roll in it onto my back, tightening it around my torso. His narrowed eyes stay on mine, searching for answers. “Are you going to tell me what the cuts are?”

“They’re nothing,” I say a little bit too quickly, even for me. He raises an eyebrow and I look down guiltily, not wanting to upset him. “I’m sorry, they really are nothing. Just – just let it go, please, Harry.”

As I sit up against the headboard, Harry grabs my hand and holds it in his two, massaging my fingers gently. I watch him bring my knuckles over to his mouth and he kisses each of them carefully, his eyes never leaving mine. “Love, what did we say about apologizing? Now, tell me when and why you decided that cutting yourself would be a good idea.”

The answer should be obvious, but his eyes are so soft and worried that I wonder if he truly is clueless about all of this. It isn’t the first time Harry takes care of me for wounds I’ve inflicted myself on my body, and it probably won’t be the last, but instead of yelling and reprimanding me like he usually does, he looks genuinely worried and scared.

“Is it because of me?” he suddenly whispers when I don’t give him the desired answer, his voice hoarse and cracking. “Is it because you aren’t happy here?”