Tolerate It || l.s ✓

Chapter 21

5 comments on my last chapter, new lowscore!

Drops of crimson stained the tiled floor of Harry's bathroom. His hands had gone cold and numb, and his eyes were fixated on the bleeding cuts that littered his pale skin.

It was nearing dawn by this point, and Harry could hear the songs of birds through the opened window, the light air outside contrasting with the heavy atmosphere of Harry's house.

Harry's breathing was laboured, his chest rising and falling as he slowly recovered from his panic attack.

Slowly he picked the blade up again, holding it to his empty thighs. He pressed it to his leg, dragging it along and watching as his skin split open.

After a few cuts he stopped, observing the destruction he has started to cause to his legs. His arms had been a battlefield for a long time, but he had never touched his legs. As he realised what he had done he let out a pained sob, chucking the blade across the room and hitting his head against the wall.

Without a second thought, he picked up his phone, calling Louis's number.

"Hello?" Louis spoke groggily down the phone.

"C-can you talk to me?" Harry choked out.

"About what darling, are you okay?"

"Please, just talk to me. About anything. Anything. I don't care what, just anything." He babbled. "Please Louis, I can't-"

"Okay, okay," Louis immediately seemed to wake up properly, "um, I think I ought to come over."

"You can't, you can't see me like this." Harry squeezed his eyes shut tightly.

"Harry, I'm gonna come over. I'll grab my keys then I'm leaving." Louis said firmly, concern lacing his voice.

Harry tried to stop him, but no words came out of his mouth, just soft gasps.

"Do you want me to stay on the phone?"

Harry shook his head and then realised Louis couldn't see him, "no, no. No, I gotta hang up."

"Okay love, okay. I'll be there in 10."

//

"Harry, I'm outside." Louis spoke through the phone.

"Key is under the flowerpot." Harry murmured before hanging up.

Harry had managed to clean himself up to some extent, bandaging up his arms and placing plasters over the cuts on his leg.

He was now sat on the floor, curled up in the corner of his room with a blanket draped over him. His cheeks and nose were pink, his eyes red and puffy. His breathing was still uneven, and his teeth were chattering.

He heard someone jogging up the stairs, calling out Harry's name. Harry gave a knock on the wall back, not having the energy to call out.

Louis slowly opened the door, his features soft as he spotted Harry.

"I'm sorry for leaving you tonight." Louis immediately apologised, moving to crouch down next to Harry.

"Wanted to be alone." Harry replied, staring at the floor.

"What happened hun?" Louis asked gently.

"I don't know. I don't fucking know." He pressed his base of his hands into his eyes. "I just feel so worthless and I don't know what I have and haven't told you but I'm depressed and it's getting so fucking bad again. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry you're here. I just, I needed to talk to you. I didn't want to do anything stupid." Harry finally looked up, his teary eyes meeting Louis's.