How to get тнroυgн тнe darĸ- When there isn't any light.

Just one week.

🌘🌘🌘🌘🌘🌘🌘🌘
"L-louis I."
I stop talking. My lips are trembling and everything around me becomes blurry from the tears.
The first words that leave his mouth aren't even to me.
They're directed at Brooke.
"YOU KNEW ABOUT THIS!?"
"Louis. Don't yell at me, please." She says surprisingly calmly.
I'm frozen, just completely wrecked.
Soon enough the rest of the lads will find out, besides Liam, and everyone will know how completely contempt I am.
In a week tops the whole fucking media will know about my blades.
Perfect because clearly more gossip and shit about me to be said is exactly what the media needs.
The band is going to finally know.
I don't want to have to explain myself once again.
Brooke's point of view.
I know he needs somebody, anybody right now. But I just want to leave.
I've never felt so fed up and confused in my life before.
I absolutely adore him and I'd literally drop dead right here right now for him, as I've probably mentioned countless times before but..
He doesn't love me like that anymore.
I don't wanna know if he ever did.
He just needs someone to tell him he's lovely and to keep him occupied and he might've said I was everything but I'm clearly not.
He hasn't fought for me. Not even a little.
"Louis you need to leave." I say through tears.
"What did you just say to me? I just found out my best friend fucking cuts himself with some razor blade probably and he told you, and not me!? I have always been there for you Harry!! Are you even listening?
"H-harry I gotta go." I say, covering my mouth with my hand to hide sobs immediately after I finish my sentence.
"Where" He asks, with an almost robotic tone.
"I don't know."
I clutch the cold, brass door handle and look back at both of them.
Harry still hasn't pulled his sleeves down. What's the use I guess...
"You're not coming back. Are you?" His voice cracks on the last lingering word and he breaks into silent hysterics immediately after I reply the inevitable.
"No".
I close the door and already I can barely see two feet in front of me.
I left him sobbing there.
How horrible could I possibly be???
I don't even know who broke up with who.
I stumble to the elevator and grab the one that isn't occupied by anybody else.
My fingers hit two or three buttons before I control my hand.
He isn't mine anymore.
I'd be lying if I didn't say I miss him already. But he just frustrates me so damn much with his constant lack of self esteem or how anything could set him off easily.
He's the best thing I've ever had and yet I don't even want to go back there.
I see a reflected image of myself in the elevator's perfectly fancy gold lined doors, whether it's fake or not. I look like a ghost, except for the painted mascara running in one or two small flows across my cheeks.
I hate him.
I love him and miss him,
But his name actually hurts right now.
I don't think about the taunting crowd until I'm two feet from about 800 people for as far as I can see around the hotel, a lot more then before.
I literally can't see straight and everyone is screaming the lad's and my names like they've never spoke before.
My stomach drops.
A guard calmly walks over and wraps his gloved hands around my right arm, and waist. He drags me, holding me steady when I trip or get shoved, and without saying a words gets me through the crowd in a matter of seconds.
As soon as he lets go the fans are already moving around towards me again and I'm pushed to the dirty concrete.
It begins to gently sprinkle rain all across the city and it's people.
The palm of my hand is instantly stinging and when I pause to look it's scratched and bleeding. I dust the rocks and blood off and blink repeatedly hoping to clear my vision.
I gotta go get another hotel. I really don't wanna pay all that much for one night so maybe I can get a run down little motel room somewhere. Then tomorrow night I can leave and go back to college.
God I'm so fucking stupid.
I want to hug him. I don't wanna have to deal with any of this or the fact that the entire one direction band is going to be aware of Harry's worst habit, and a lot more about his life now. Oh god what if his mom finds out?
I realize it's begun raining quite a bit harder now.
"No. The boys are completely reasonable at the least" I tell myself, climbing into the cab I called and realizing Louis was probably pretty far from making any decisions or saying anything reasonable at the moment.
I feel so bad. Louis is probably ten times as crushed as I was when I initially found out- outside the studio's bathrooms.
I almost laugh.
Within minutes my hair is dripping and my shirt is wet with raindrops.
An image suddenly pops in my head of me instructing a very upset, anxious Harry to take off his bloody shirt when I found him cutting..the first time.
I shouldn't have left. I don't want to stay, I realize. He flat out told me he'd be happier without me.
It's amazing what one,
Absolute,
Beautiful,
Terrible,
Lovely,
Horrifying
Week can do to you.