Haunted (Larry Stylinson)

Chapter 11

A/N

This is kinda short, but its a filler chapter.

This will only be like three/four chapters more and then there will be the sequel.

It's going to be called The Moment I Knew and I'm like already writing it in my head.

Yeah.

So.

Love you!

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Harry's POV

After a considerable amount of persuading from Liam, I went to the doctors to get a prescription for anti-depressants and whatever medication is used for panic attacks.

I didn't really think they would help any, but I took them so to ease his worries.

And now, reluctantly, I was going skiing with Taylor. I had no idea why I had agreed to this.

She chattered nonstop about us being together for New Years until I was ready to jump off of the lift just so I wouldn't have to listen to her anymore.

It was a little sad because I was filled with memories of skiing with Louis and how much fun we had had.

And now I was stuck with the Wicked Bitch of the West.

In all honesty, Taylor really wasn't entirely horrible. I had a feeling that she knew that I wasn't as committed or interested as her so that was why she was pushing it so much. But she was trying and I had to give her credit for that.

We went back to the hotel exhausted. Despite both of us hardly being able to keep our eyes open, she crawled into bed next to me and started to kiss my neck and run her disturbingly cold hands down my chest.

"Not tonight, Taylor. I'm knackered," I mumbled.

She hummed in consent and curled next to me.

"You're hands are bloody freezing," I grumbled as she wrapped her arms around me.

"You should help me warm them up, then," she purred, putting them on my neck. They were so cold that it almost hurt.

I shivered and flinched away.

"Jesus, Taylor!" I snapped.

"Sorry," she giggled.

I rolled my eyes and allowed her to pull herself close to me once again.

I fell asleep trying to pretend those freezing cold hands belonged to Louis.

On Christmas, I went back to Holmes Chapel, grateful for the break from Taylor. She was sweet and all but I was really getting sick of her. Our fans weren't necessarily incorrect in saying that she was a whore or a slut. We had sex every day that we were together and it was hardly enjoyable for me, mostly because I was quite gay.

She was also quite unobservant. She didn't seem to notice how I slipped into the bathroom at least once a day and puked my guts up, hating the feeling of food in my stomach.

I wasn't stupid. I knew that if I did it too much that I could really hurt myself, so I didn't do it super often.

I was relieved as I walked into my mum's house. I was happy to see her after a long time being away from home. She greeted me with her customary joy in seeing me, then a typical frown as she saw the cuts and the exhaustion and the bones that stuck out underneath my shirt.

She led me into the kitchen where she had tea waiting. She gestured for me to sit down before she spoke.

"Louis called, you know, a few weeks ago. He's desperate to know what happened to make you change so drastically," she began.