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twenty-eight | nightmare

~no pov

After a few minutes, Harry woke up feeling sore all over. He'd been kicked repeatedly in the time he was unconscious. And it hurt like a motherfucker.

He got up and crawled over to the bathroom, feeling like absolute shit. He'd never hated himself more, and because of that, he'd have to take it out on himself.

Of course he did. That was how he coped after all.

Without thinking about it, he shoved two fingers down his throat and threw up. And he did it three more times before he felt his vision darken. He was incredibly lightheaded again. 

And then he realised what he'd done.

draco won't be proud of me anymore. he's going to hate me. i'm useless, weak and i cant even recover. i'm so stupid.

"Harry?" Dudley opened the bathroom door. "What are you doing?"

He smelled the vomit and saw Harry leaning against the open toilet. He realised what Harry had done, and the urge to scream at him disappeared.

Since his overdose, Dudley had been a dick less than usual. He still hit Harry every now and then, taunted him and made him feel like shit, but he tried not to. It came as a reflex. He was nicer sometimes.

Like right now, when he picked up his cousin's featherweight body and flushed the toilet. "Wash your mouth."

Harry was too out-of-it to do so. Dudley felt weird doing this, but he poured some mouthwash into the younger boy's mouth, and Harry was forced to gargle it and spit it into the sink. Otherwise he would've choked and probably passed out again.

Dudley then carried his cousin to his room and laid him down on his bed. Though Harry trusted the boy just enough to know he wouldn't hurt him like Louis did, he still feared it. He didn't trust any man to get so close to him.

Not even Ron, or the twins, or Draco.

But Harry was proven wrong when Dudley threw the duvet over him and left, shutting the door. Harry knew he wasn't going to be able to stay up, but he was too drowsy to resist. And he slept, nightmares awaiting.

"Louis?"

"Come visit me, James. Come see me in the pub, ask me what I did to you."

"No."

"Vernon will talk to me. Ask me what happened. And I'll tell him you're a little faggot who got on his knees and sucked me off over and over again, before I fucked you till you only remembered my name. How would he like hearing that?"

"You- we didn't. We didn't do anything like that."

"You did suck me off."

"You forced me to."

"I'll lie. Who are they gonna believe? The anorexic, abused self-harmer or me? Trustworthy man with lots of friends who could do worse than I did."

"They'll believe me. You cut me. I have the scar."

"But look at the rest of the little cuts on your wrist. No one's gonna believe I did that. You have a history."

"I'm not going to visit you. I won't. I won't."

"You will, you little slut. Or I'll find out where you live and come finish what I started. Would you prefer that?"

"No-"

"Then visit me. Or I'll visit you."

Harry knew it was all a nightmare when he shot up, tears streaming down his face. He knew it wasn't really Louis. But he was scared.

Vernon surely would go talk to Louis to find out the rest of what Harry left out. He had to visit Louis. He wouldn't be able to get rid of that nightmare if he didn't overcome it in real life.

It was a stupid, stupid idea, but he did it anyway.

At ten-thirty on Christmas Eve, Harry snuck out and faced his fears by going to the pub that scarred him, to meet the man who did that too.

Nightmare Louis was right when he said he'd be in the pub. It only made Harry believe the nightmare was real. 

He went back to the very same seat he sat on the last time he set foot in the building. He waited for Louis to notice him so they could talk. Just that. Just talk.

He waited for ten minutes before Louis noticed the brunet and came and sat down with him. 

"You came back." Louis smiled with his ugly teeth. It wasn't a good smile. "Exactly a year after."

"I did, because my uncle knows who you are." 

Louis paled. "Does he know what happened here?"

"No." Harry said bluntly. "He just knows that you made me look like the bad guy. Said that I cut you and said only that. You left out the part where you assaulted me, where you cut me too and hit me."

"I did no such thing."

"You did!" Harry shouted, but then lowered his voice. "You did. I remember it. I remember every second of it."

"Means you liked it. Means you came back for more."

He let out a shaky breath. "I didn't like it. Not at all. You hurt me, and I will never forget it because it traumatised me. Traumatised."

"Please, you're just being dramatic. I can change your mind."

Harry's hand was taken and placed over Louis' crotch. He felt the bile rise up to his throat. "Let go."

He tried to yank his hand away, but the older man had a stronger grip. He made "James'" hand rub his growing bulge and Harry threw up bile into the drink Louis brought with him.

Louis used his other hand to slap Harry for that. And no one fucking noticed. And then the same hand touched Harry's chest, going downwards to his crotch.

But then Harry's free hand grabbed the creep's wrist and stopped him before he could. "I will not let you hurt me twice. You will not. I swear to fucking god I will smash your head into that glass."

"You win. For now."

Louis decided he wouldn't let Harry win forever. He'd get the boy back. How and when, was undecided. But he knew he would.

And Harry realised he had to recover from his anorexia so he could get strong again, and be able to defend himself if a situation like last year ever reoccurred. 

Louis left, determined. But he left an even more determined victim. And the grey-haired man should be afraid.

fuck you louis clarkson. you might think you hurt me today, but you helped me instead. i've got the motivation to recover now, and to get my revenge.

thanks to you.

you'll never win.

cl i wanna kms