On my knees for you (Boyxboy)

Twelve

Twelve

Media: Harrys outfit.

Here is a long upate for you all :)

P.O.V Louis

I make it through the day, but only just as I realise Harry isn't here. He didnt come back from the bathroom during our lesson, but no one seems to care, as if its normal. I've only been here for a short time and it worries me that Harry takes up so many of my thoughts during the day.

It usually takes longer for me to create any sort of relationship with people, wether its friends, family, aquaintances or even boyfriends. The fact that I can sense an automatic pull towards Harry scares the crap out of me. This never happens. This cannot happen, we are so different.

I walk home alone after asking Eleanor to go with me to her party. Of course she said yes and jumped in my arms, wrapping her long slender arms around my neck. Similarly to how I had wrapped mine around Harrys neck when I found him in the school bathroom.

Im too caught up in my own thoughts to realise I should be concentrating about the party I am going to with Eleanor and not Harry

. I've been to plenty of partys, and some of them ended in drowning in booze and my friends drugged to the edge of their sanity. Which was one of the reasons my mum made us move, she called me a crazed teenager with little to no control. I know it went a little out of hand but at least I wasn't doing drugs.

My mum knows only a little bit of the whole story, and the amount of times I have been through physical pain because I am bi I do not wish for her to find out. I remember I told her that I fell down the stairs at school when I came home with a broken wrist and a blue eye. Only she didn't know that my best friend Will had done the damage.

Friday

I find myself in my room rummaging through my closet, where I was once locked inside, I think to myself as I pull out a pair of black skinnies and smile.

I pair it with a white t-shirt, only a little see-through. Its simple but I like it. I use ages on my hair and eventually decide to put on a black beanie instead of spraying it, just letting it hang loosely over my forehead to form a soft fringe which I push to the side every now and then.

I reach for my wallet and phone, heading out the door with a quick goodbye to my mum who is spread out on the couch watching yet another season of friends.

Harrys P.O.V

I look at myself in the mirror with bloodshot eyes. I am turning into my drunken, deluded father I think to myself as I reach for my razor which is neatly placed in its silver case with 'H S' engraved on the lid. My fingers touch the cold, sharp metal and I can already feel relief flood through my heavy body.

One, Two, Three, Four

I count as the blade slashes my already red, bumpy skin. I cut into my recent scar and I feel pain rush down my spine. The scar opens cleanly and the scab formed starts to peel as red blood engulfs it and runs down my bleak arm. I watch my own blood make small channels down my arm as it reaches my finger tips and drips onto the white bathroom floor, making patterns. I am not going to that hideous party where that fucker Louis will be.

I look at myself again and I realise that this is what I have become, a bisexual freak who cant control his own life, one who follows his fathers footsteps and has a very slim future ahead. I feel my eyes start to water and I bite my lip. I will not cry.

My hair is limp and my eyes are still a crimson red, I look an absolute mess. My mind thinks back to Louis, again. His blue eyes and the soft wrinkles by his eyes that form when he laughs, I have seen it when he's with Zayn.