Therapy (Larry Stylinson)

Chapter 20 - And I will heal your broken heart

It’s been two months.

It’s been two months and Harry is still not talking about it.  It’s been two months and Louis is still not asking about it.

The days are the same and the world hasn’t stopped that day at the hospital. People are still laughing in the streets, dogs are still barking in backyards and the sun is still rising every morning. Nothing’s changed. Nothing except everything.

Harry’s stopped going to uni because he just couldn’t focus on what was going on outside his head. He’s been hiding in Louis’ flat like a recluse and refuses to see anyone who reminds him of a world outside. He hasn’t smiled since and hasn’t laughed, not once. He became a shadow of himself, dragging his body reluctantly from the bed to the bathroom, from the bathroom to the couch, from the couch to the floor, lying on the carpet as if his limbs couldn’t take him anywhere else.

He has been taking his medication, too lost and crushed to do anything else. He doesn’t draw, doesn’t sing in the car, doesn’t go to the coffee shop and doesn’t text or call anyone. Niall has been visiting but he’s spent more time staring at him than actually talking, because there is no words coming out of Harry without a ‘sorry’ at the end.

It’s been two months and he thinks everything going wrong is his fault. It’s been two months and he’s not too sure he’s alive anymore.

Louis has been hiding just as much.

He spends his days at the office, ignores Alexa – who always comes to pick up Julian – when she asks for Harry. He ignores Zayn when he tries to figure out what’s wrong and he ignores Perrie who knocks on his door everyday to make sure he’s breathing behind the door.

He lets his mind drift and lets himself sink into his clients’ stories. He doesn’t smile, doesn’t laugh and barely shows any signs of courtesy. He just writes down everything going on in their mind and pretends he knows how to fix everything, even when his everything is nothing but a pile of broken thoughts and broken dreams, broken heart and broken soul.

He’s not angry but he’s not joyful either. He sometimes skips lunch, avoiding his colleagues and their laugh, avoiding their well being and their concern. He’d rather lock himself in his office and stare at the chaise in front of him, wondering how and when it happened, at which point did a normal appointment turned his life upside down, and at which point his heart got switched with the one of a twenty one year old pain magnet.

It’s been two months and the days of cheeky grins and purple flowers is nothing but a memory, lost in the waves of grief, guilt and sorrow.

Sometimes, Louis would go home to find a body lying on the floor, staring at the ceiling in silent. He’d tried many times to make him stand up, to bring life into him, to make sure he’s still with him. But, truth be told, it’s been weeks and he’s not sure there is any life left in his boy.

He tried to make him speak up, tried to get something out of his tired eyes and shaky lips. But nothing. Nothing but sobs and self hatred, nothing but weak nods and squint of the eyes.

He didn’t even know one could suffer this much without a physical wound. He’s seen people in pain. He’s seen people screaming from being stabbed or beat up, bleeding and aching for too long. He’s seen people fighting their demons trying to make it out alive on his chaise and he’s seen people suffer from diseases and other common reasons to hurt. But truth is, he had never believed this sort of pain could exist. He had never thought the one Harry was living was true, never thought the universe could create such suffering to an innocent heart.