Boundless •L.S•

Dark in here|22

Charlie opened the door for Louis only for the latter to push him aside and head straight for the kitchen.

"Louis? What are you doing?" Is all Charlie can even manage to say in the middle of Louis madness, rummaging through cupboards trying to find the drugs like it depends on his life.

"Lou..." he hears what he thinks might have been Niall, but in the middle of the mess in his mind, he can barely remember anyone speaking in the first place.

Things happen fast, and by the time that he is holding the small baggie full of white powder - In his mind everything is fuzzy and confusing but so many thoughts start to run through his head, overwhelming would be an understimatement.

He stops for a moment, tears starting to blur his vision as his hands keep on shaking. He doesn't know whether he's sure if he wants to do this or not.

He could feel the weight of the world on his shoulders, crushing him under its immense pressure. His breathing became shallow and rapid, his chest tightening with each breath. Panic was washing over him, consuming him like a tidal wave.

He closed his eyes, attempting to find solace in the darkness behind his eyelids. But the darkness only seemed to intensify his fears, amplifying his worries until they became insurmountable.

It's not the first time something like this has happened, but every time seems to be scarier than the last.

Every time this happens, he feels like these shadows are creeping into his mind, making everything black and lonely.

As the panic attack reached its peak, Louis felt a wave of dizziness wash over him. His legs gave way, and he collapsed onto the floor, his body trembling uncontrollably. His hands shook as he clutched his chest, desperately trying to slow down his racing heart. But the more he focused on his heartbeat, the faster it seemed to go.

Tears streamed down Louis' face as he struggled to breathe. He felt as if he were suffocating, as if the walls were closing in on him, squeezing the air out of his lungs. He gasped for breath, but it felt as if someone had placed a heavy weight on his chest, making it nearly impossible to fill his lungs with air.

Suddenly, he feels a feather like touch on his clutched hand, and then he hears the familiar voice, "Breathe with me, Lou, you're having a panic attack."

Louis looks at Harry, tears never stopping from falling.

Harry inches closer towards Louis, always so slow as if he is making sure if the blue-eyed lad is alright with every move that he makes.

Soon, in the midst of the chaos going on in Louis head, Harry has taken both Louis hands and slowly unclutched them from the tight grip they had, tenderly pushing Louis towards himself, Louis' head resting on Harry's chest.

"Feel the way my chest is raising and falling," Harry mutters, "in," he takes a breath in, "out." He let's it out.

Louis closes his eyes, the closeness between them somehow comforting as he starts to get familiar with the raise and fall of Harry's chest, starting to finally breathe normally.

"You're fine. You're doing great, love." After another short while Harry speaks up once again, "Do you need something?"

Louis takes another breath, "My room..." he whispers.

He can feel Harry nodding before trying to get up experimentally to see if Louis still wants to stay close to Harry, just for the ocean eyed man to whine in protest.

"Okay, love, I'm here." He says as he lifts Louis up, the latter's face pressed into his neck and arms resting on his chest.

"Thank you..." it was said in tone barely above a whisper, but Harry heard and just bought Louis a little closer to himself, walking towrads the dimly lit room.

• • •

After a while of silence and the older lad calming down, Harry finally speaks up.

"I told you to lock the door. "

"I did..." Louis mutters, and Harry waits for him to keep going, "Charlie was outside and saw the key." Louis explains shortly.

With Louis laying down on his bed, one of his hands draped over his stomach and eyes trained on the ceiling, and with Harry laying down beside him, he couldn't see the younger lads frown but it was there.

"How long were you dealing with this?"

Louis sighs, closing his eyes, not liking the fact that he has to deal with this or even have to talk about this, "A week, these last two days were harder, though."

Harry is quiet for a moment before turning his head to his right to look at Louis, "A week is good." But that makes Louis groan and hide his face in his pillows.

"A week is weak." He says, his voice muffled by the pillows in the way. The curly haired one is quiet at that.

"Let me be the judge of that," There is a pause there, "Sweetcheeks..."

Louis looks up, and his mouth drops before taking a pillow and hit Harry with it, making the younger one scoff and glare at him. "I thought we agreed on never saying that ever again."

"Didn't agree to anything." Harry shrugs.

"Not fair."

Louis chuckles, and right before he lays down again, he notices the little smile on Harry's lips, making his own smile widen.

The silence is only helping Louis think, which is not necessarily something he likes doing.

Finally, after a short while, unable to bear the silence and his own thoughts any longer, he breaks it with a quiet mutter. "Care to tell me why you have almost killed me more than once this week?"

Harry's eyes flicker towards Louis, "When have I failed to make you believe that I want you breathing."

Even though Louis clearly knew more than well what Harry was trying to do he wasn't giving up, something in him making him want to know, making him have this strange urge to know whether he is truly alright or if he is just pretending.

And just a little less than a minute of silence is what did it for Harry to finally let out a sigh with a quiet mutter of 'I hate you' under his breath to finally speak up.

"He's been following me."