Tolerate It || l.s ✓

Chapter 9

"Fuck." Harry slowly lifted his hand to his head, "Zayn?"

"Right here babes." Zayn's voice rang out from next to him.

Harry rolled over, snaking his arms around Zayn. "My head hurts."

"I can imagine. Want some paracetamol?"

"Yes please. Hurts. How much did I drink?"

"Enough for you to grind on me."

"I'd do that sober." Harry teased, immediately groaning as he opened his eyes. "Oh god, did Louis see me doing that?"

"He did."

"Oh god, but I see him everyday at work."

"Let me get you that paracetamol." Zayn chuckled and Harry shut his eyes.

He must've drifted off again as he didn't notice Zayn return until his eyes fluttered open again.

"You and Louis would make a cute couple." Zayn said thoughtfully, lighting a cigarette as Harry took the paracetamol.

"Window." Harry pointed, "and why do you say that?"

"He seems nice, he looked after you well last night. And you two are both attractive." Zayn moved to the window, leaning against the wall.

"Don't be stupid. Louis and I are only just friends. I don't have feelings greater than that for him."

"Shame. Cig?" He offered.

"No thank you. Might make me throw up."

"Alright, well get dressed in a minute. I'm taking you out for breakfast."

//

Zayn had returned home, and Harry was left alone yet again. He tried not to dwell on the fact that he had returned to his state of loneliness. He and Zayn had just had a lovely weekend. He had to concentrate on that.

But the more he tried to focus on the positives, the more the negatives pushed their way in.

And just that little downfall in his thoughts led to Harry sat in the empty bathtub with blood dripping from his wrists.

Harry ended up staying there for 30 minutes, arms facing upwards as they lay upon his thighs. By this time he had lost all feeling in hands, and they had now turned stone cold.

The only reason for his movement was the sudden ring of the doorbell which snapped him out of his thoughts.

He rushed to rinse his arms off, finding that there was no time to bandage the cuts so he just tugged his hoodie sleeves over his hands.

He trudged downstairs, dragging his knuckles along the wall until they felt raw. Tentatively he opened the door.

"Hi, we were driving past so we were just wondering if you and Zayn wanted to come out for a meal with us?" Louis was stood before him, and his friends from the other night were sat in the car parked up against the pavement outside his house.

"Zayn's gone home." Harry muttered in response, avoiding eye contact and hoping Louis wouldn't see quite how shit he felt.

"Oh, that's a shame. Well, would you like to come?" And it seemed that only then did Louis really look at Harry, because Harry watched as the concern masked his features- drawing his eyebrows in and turning down the corners of his mouth.

"I don't think so. Sorry." He shook his head gently, "just not today."

"Are you okay?" Louis frowned.

"Yes, of course."

"You don't look too good Harry."

"Thanks." Harry muttered with a sarcastic tone.