Tolerate It || l.s ✓

Chapter 5

Harry sat uncomfortably in one of the plastic chairs in the staff room. The teachers had all been gathered, the headteacher wanting to discuss the topics of discussion for tutor time this term.

As per usual, Harry's morning hadn't been great. He'd been woken up early by a phonecall from his mum, and unable to hang up out of fear for her, he was then late as a consequence.

There was no doubt he looked a mess, he'd had to throw on his clothes and leave with no regards to his hair or face (or clothes to be honest, the outfit was definitely not planned).

"Drugs." The headmaster slammed his hand down on the table and Harry jumped.

"Drugs?" Louis repeated.

"Yes, Louis. Did you not read the email? For the remainder of this week and next week, drugs will be the topic of discussion with your tutor groups."

Harry frowned, his eyes widening. He could not talk about drugs and their effect in front of a class when his mother was an addict.

"Is that alright Harry?" The headmaster turned to him. And Harry knew that he didn't mean to single him out, didn't mean to sound condescending, but it felt as though he did.

The rest of the teachers turned to look at him and Harry's cheeks flushed red. "Um, yeah. It's fine."

Thankfully the attention was taken away from him as someone else asked a question. But by that point it was too late, Harry's mind was already racing once again.

They began to run through a PowerPoint that covered the basics of what they had to teach, and Harry desperately tried to pay attention but as the headteacher droned on about the effects drug abuse can have on the user and the people around them, Harry got more and more wound up.

It mentioned what to do when someone you know is an addict. It said to be there for them and to get them professional help. It said not to give up on them. If only it were that fucking easy. If only they fucking knew.

Harry knew that it would probably draw more attention to him but he couldn't stay in there anymore. He stood up, muttering something about having to take a phone call as he left.

Thankfully the school was still empty of students, they wouldn't be in for at least another half an hour, so he rushed through the building until he eventually reached a courtyard area.

He slipped down against the wall, practically curled up on the floor. His breathing was already becoming shallow and uneven, preventing him from caring about the dirt and wrinkles that would become a new addition to his clothes.

He dug the palms of his hands into his eyes as he desperately tried to stop the spilling tears.

"Fuck, fucking useless!" He whimpered softly, not quite sure if he was on about his method of tear prevention, or himself.

A gentle grip rested itself on Harry's shoulder, causing him to jump and to shake even more. He gasped- halfway between a sob and merely a breath- pulling away.

"Harry."

And of course it was Louis. Louis, the man who had been appearing in his life over and over these past few days, was now crouched by him as he trembled.

"Leave me alone, please, please-" He sniffed, burying his head in his arms.

"Don't be silly. I'm not just going to leave you alone when you're in this state." Louis moved his hand to Harry's back, moving his thumb slowly up and down. "What's up?" He asked kindly.

"They don't understand."

"What don't they understand?"

"What it's like. It's not, it's not that fucking easy, it's not, it's not that fucking easy."

"Hey," Louis frowned, "it's okay. It'll be okay. Try and take some deep breaths. Breathe with me." He visibly slowed down his breathing, hoping Harry would attempt to replicate it.

Thankfully Harry did, resting his head back against the wall as the air began to refill his lungs properly.

"Why do they make it sound so fucking simple?" He murmured.

Louis remained silent, not really knowing what Harry was talking about.

"They don't care that you care. They don't care that you're trying to fucking help them, all they care about is their next fucking fix! But then when you leave them they act as though you were their fucking life support, I don't understand why they're making it out to be so easy, it's not!" Harry rambled, and though his hyperventilating had ceased, he was still rocking back and forth and shaking and tears were still spilling down his face.

Louis tried to speak but Harry cut him off.

"And it hurts, you know. They don't mention how fucking much it hurts because, because they're not the person you grew up with anymore. You just have to watch them slip away and there's nothing you can do. They're not kind and selfless and funny anymore, they're just nasty and selfish and they turn fucking evil."

"Harry-" Louis tried again softly.

"It's like their dead. It's like their dead but in some ways it's so much worse. Because they're not dead and gone and buried, their ghosts are still there. Their shadows will lurk and haunt you and they'll play their stupid little fucking evil games until you become the fucking epitome of haunted!"

"Harry, it's okay. It's okay." But after that, Louis wasn't sure that it was okay.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry-" Harry slumped forward, his forehead coming to a rest upon his knees. "Oh god, I'm sorry."

"Don't apologise, okay? Don't apologise. You've done nothing wrong."

"But-but, I can't, I can't, it's so stupid."

"You can't what?"

Harry shook his head. "I gotta teach. I gotta go and teach." He made a move to stand up but Louis stopped him.

"No you do not. I'm not being funny but I'm not sure you can teach like this."

"I can." Harry looked to Louis. His bottom lip was red and raw, near enough bleeding from where he had been biting it, whilst his eyes were bloodshot and a little puffy. His cheeks were tinged pink and his eyelashes were darker than usual as they sat clumped together.

"No you can't love." Louis said softly. "You ought to go home."

Harry shook his head, "I don't want to go home. I want to teach my class."

"You've just had what seemed to me like a panic attack. You can't just go back in there and teach. Just sit still for a minute and have a breather. Do you want to talk to me about this?"

Harry shook his head again, "no." He muttered, "I want to pretend this never happened."

"Okay, we can do that."