Beautiful, beautiful boy || l.s

one

11 years ago

"What it appears to me is that Harry may be on the autism spectrum. What I've gathered so far is that he has very likeful symptoms related to Asperger's. I do see a possibility of there being ADHD also, but we will go into debt with that later. As for now, I'd like to maybe interact with Harry for a few moments." Doctor Steinfeld told Anne. The woman sat worriedly beside her son, who seemed to be zoned out. "Harry, love. Doctor Steinfeld would like to take you back in the office." She says. Harry remains quite and Anne frowns, giving a shy grin to the doctor. She nudges the child again, "Harry." 

The five year old still doesn't respond and she sighs. Shaking his shoulder, she repeats what she said moments ago. "MOM STOP!" He yells. Anne looks startled but she narrows her eyebrows at her son, ready to scold. "Harry Edward Styles, don't you dare raise your voice at me. Doctor Steinfeld is going to ask you some questions and I need you to go into that room." 

"I was trying to count the tiles." He tells her. Anne shook her head, pulling the boy onto his feet. "Well we aren't here to count tiles, Harry. Go with Doctor Steinfeld." Harry whimpers with fresh tears filling his eyes but Anne pushes him towards the bulk man. "I don't want to." He mumbles. Doctor Steinfeld smiles. "Don't worry, Harry. Nothing bad is going to happen I'm just going to ask you some questions, okay?" Harry sniffles, hesitantly nodding his head and accepting Doctor Steinfeld's outstretched hand. They enter the room and he hops onto the stool to sit on the bed.

"What do you usually do, Harry?" 

Harry scrunches up his nose and begins to fumble with his small fingers. "I like to paint." He answers quietly. Doctor Steinfeld smiles. "That's great! What else do you like to do?" 

"I like to count the tiles. But mumma always says that I get too d...distracted?" Doctor Steinfeld nods, writing down the notes onto a paper. "Does she yell?" Harry frowns. "Only sometimes. When I don't listen." 

"Why don't you listen?" 

"Because I want to count the tiles." Doctor Steinfeld nods along. "Okay. What don't you like?" 

"Um...mustard." He says immediately. "And why don't you like mustard?" 

"It tastes...sour. I don't like sour stuff." Harry responds with a scrunch of his nose. He was like a bunny. Doctor Steinfeld chuckles and continues to write down on the paper. Harry wonders what he is writing. "What else. I want you to give me a list and why." Harry sighs and starts to pull on his fingers. "Um.. I don't like cereal. Because it always tastes weird sometimes when I count and then it gets soggy. 'N oatmeal. I don't like how oats feel in my mouth. Or crunchy sounds. They sound weird and when I eat food that's crunchy I don't like it. I don't like fur either." 

"Is there anything else?" 

"School. Mumma said I have to go to school but I don't like it there." He says quietly. Doctor Steinfeld hums. "Why don't you like it there?" 

"Because there is so much people." Harry explains shortly with a pout. His shoulders start to slump until he just let's his back hunch all together, still focused on his fingers. "Okay. Is there any specific...toys that you like, maybe?" 

"Oh! I really like the play doh scissors mumma got me. And the atom toy Daddy has." 

The conversation with Doctor Steinfeld continued until he finally let Harry out the office and he rushes to his mother, jumping onto her lap. The woman plants a tender kiss on his forehead, brushing his hair out his face. "From what I've gathered, Harry has definite symptoms. What we're talking about, they take back to Asperger's as I said before, but I can also see some obsessive compulsive disorder." Anne looked down at her son sadly, combing her fingers through his hair. "So what're you saying?" 

"I am saying that I think your son might have three of those diagnosis's."

***

Mornings were never Harry's strong suite. Honestly, he preferred to never wake up. Here, he sat at the breakfast bar, eating the breakfast his mother oh so generously cooked even though it's all she has been cooking for the past twelve years. Eggs, pancakes, and orange juice. Anne always tried to get him to eat meat, but his excuse was that all meats either had a crunch to it, were too chewy, or too slimy. And most people that didn't know him would call him a brat, especially because his mother had to wake up in the morning, but he really couldn't go with eating any if it wasn't that. Especially because he's gotten accustomed to it. He shoveled the last remaining's of his food into his mouth before chugging down his orange juice. 

Anne looks over his shoulder to make sure his plate was clean before taking it and putting it into the sink, along with his glass cup. She had been doing it for two years now after catching Harry throwing away his dinner -- which she later found that he'd been doing it for years now. "Go get in the car, I'll meet you outside." She says, pressing a kiss to his forehead. Harry smiles and stands up from the table, grabbing his bookbag that was hanging on the doorknob. When they approached the school he started to nibble on his bottom lip nervously. God, he's been going to school nearly his whole life and he still can't grow up and not have a near anxiety attack from just being near the building. Anne placed a hand on his knee, pressing her lips together. 

"It's going to be alright," she told him. "All you need to do is work, lunch, back to work, then you're free to go. That's it." Harry sighs, leaning his head against the window. "It's not that." He murmurs. It's the fact that everybody finds a way to tease me for no reason. "Well whatever it is, it'll pass by soon. Don't worry so much. Have a good day." Harry knew that was a sign for him to get the hell out of the car so he leisurely unbuckled his seatbelt with a snap. "Bye, mum." He doesn't bother to give her a kiss, or hug, just slams the door shut (very unintentionally) and stomps towards the hell-hole of a building. The ungracious smell of 99% of the students odors filled his nose and he gagged silently, plugging it as his feet shuffled awkwardly on the floor. Laughter and conversation filled his ears, and he grimaced at that too, just wanting to plug them, but his hands were currently occupied. 

When he finally got to his locker, he twisted the lock on the medal before opening it, stuffing his bookbag in it and only getting what was necessary to have. 

The day bypassed boringly, and most of it he spent with his head on the desk, sleeping the classes away. He felt like all he really was good for was sleeping. That's all he did, basically spent 19 hours of the day drooling. The bell rang indicating that his last class was over and he rushes out the classroom, hurrying to his locker so he could finally leave. As he had his final things prepared, his Book of Atoms novel tucked in his arm, he turned around, shutting it with his hip only to collide to a firm chest. He knocked to the floor of course, being his terrible sense of balance and groaned from the floor, rubbing his bum. "Hey, robot." Ugh. That again.

Wyler, seriously who even names their kid that, his elementary bully. He has been using the same name since second grade, all because Harry talked slow and monotonously. It's not his fault he sometimes lacked reaction to things. He ignores the older boy of course, going to reach for his book but Wyler's sneaker abruptly step on it. "You think you can ignore me, disable?" Wyler challenges, kneeling down with his foot still pressed onto the book. Harry grunts, pulling it harder until he kicks Wyler's knee, causing him to contract. "Fuck you little shit!"

Harry quickly grabs his book and runs out the school, ignoring all the looks he received from people near. He gets to the car and swings the door open, relaxing once he was settled inside the vehicle. "Mind telling me what that was about?" Anne asked. 

Harry's eyes widened, fearing that Anne saw what happened. "W-What what was about?" He says nervously, pulling on the collar of his striped sweatshirt. "Why you just ran into the car." Harry swallows dryly, slumping back into his seat. 

"Nothing." He murmurs.

I FINALLY PUBLISHED THIS i think i have enough information so far, and throughout the present timeline of the chapter i tried to show the same symptoms harry had developed as a child that was shown in the past 
it took me so much deleting and re-writing for me to finally have the finish product so please please let me know what you think b4 i put the entire day to waste when i could be reading smut ://

anyways

i hope this was enough to get you interested or whatever
louis should be coming in soon, but i might switch up the plot a bit! i love you guys :)<33