larry stylinson smut

we fight to hold on, fight to let go🫶🏽

Louis is forced into breaking things off with Harry to keep his star status, Harry doesn't understand, and Louis turns to drinking and other forms of self-harm.

~ Trigger warning ⚠️- Self-harm!! ~
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It happens quickly. The door slams behind Louis, and he's left standing in the hallway, tears stinging his eyes. He doesn't want to do this but what choice does he have, he doesn't want to ruin Harry's place in the band or his potential stardom later in life, but Louis loves him, he doesn't know how to do this.

He avoids Harry as best he can while he thinks hard about how to break up with him, he doesn't want to break his heart but maybe that's the only way, because he knows He won't believe him otherwise.

A week after his meeting with their management and avoiding Harry, He can't keep putting it off. He knocks on Harry's door, "Hey Lou," He says with a smile as he opens the door, letting him in. "Harry," Louis sighs. He has to stay strong.

Don't cry. Don't cry. He tells himself.

"We have to break up," he rushes out, Harry's face falls, "What?" He asks quietly, "I'm sorry Harry I just...I guess I've just lost feelings, it's not anything you've done it just..it was a mistake" Louis explains, willing his voice not to crack, "you've lost feelings?" Harry asks, expression changing from one of sadness to anger.

"Yeah, Harry, sometimes that happens... I had feelings for you because we were so close, it was new. But Harry, I'm not...I don't like guys, " Louis says, forcing his voice to sound angry, "you're lying, " Harry says, stepping towards him. Louis takes a step back.

"I'm not. I'm sorry it went this far Harry but its over" he says, making his way to the door, "fuck you. Asshole" Harry spits. And Louis has to leave right now because he can't breathe, those words like a knife to the heart.

He quickly shuts the door behind him, leaning against it as his breathing quickens, he really feels like he can't breathe. He jumps when he hears Harry swear, a Loud crash erupting as he throws something at the door.

He leaves then, running down to his car,
Once inside he rests his head in his arms against the wheel, finally allowing himself to cry, he still can't breathe, he grabs his phone, clicking to Google to find out what's happening. He's having a panic attack.

He grabs his keys, digging the key chain into his hand he feels a sense of relief, he pushes it harder until he's only focusing on the pain, letting his breathing even out.

Once he's calmed down enough he quickly forces the key into the ignition, pulling out of the space and driving home.Once home he buries himself in his bed, letting it all out until he feels asleep.

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When he wakes up his head is throbbing, he groans in pain, forcing himself to get up and walk sluggishly to the bathroom. He avoids looking at himself In the mirror, knowing he looks like shit. He reaches up to open the cabinet, looking for something to help his headache.

Instead his eyes fall on the razor, he thinks back to the key chain, how much better he felt. Before he knows it he's grabbing it, emptying the blades onto the sideboard, he stares at them for what feels like a very long time.

"Fuck it" he sighs, picking one up and bringing it to his wrist. He slowly drags the metal across his skin, hissing lightly at the pain. It feels good though, exactly what he wanted. He feels a slight sense of calm, for a moment the pain inside his mind becoming physical. He does it a few more times, eventually dropping the blade with a gasp after accidentally cutting deeper than he had been.

He grabs some tissues, pressing them against the cuts. Once he's cleaned up he quickly pulls his sleeve down, heading to the cupboard to actually grab the painkillers he was looking for.