The Moment I Knew (Larry Stylinson)

Chapter 10

A/N 

Not entirely sure where I was going when I wrote this...oh well. 

Love you!!! 

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Liam's POV

We were on the way to a meeting with our management. We planned to discuss what was going to happen in the next four and a half months. 

I had a feeling that they were going to have a little 'talk' with Louis as well, regarding his behavior. 

Niall poked my side and motioned over to Zayn and Louis. They were sitting behind us. 

Louis was nodding off, his head slowly dipping only to jerk up as he shook himself awake. Eventually, he leaned against Zayn's shoulder and stayed still. 

I frowned, through Niall seemed to find it quite entertaining.

"He hasn't been sleeping, Niall. Don't make fun of him," I sighed. 

"But he slept pretty well a few days ago," he protested. 

"He was so drunk that he passed out. That's not going to work every night," I replied, glancing back at Louis and Zayn.

Zayn blinked back and shifted Louis, whose head was about to slip off of Zayn's shoulder. 

"Why can't we just make him take something for it? We can hold his mouth closed or something," Niall argued.

"Because, it's not that he just doesn't like taking pills, Niall. He associates sleeping medication with Harry being dead. I can understand why he doesn't want to take any," I said.

"What about a liquid kind? That exists, doesn't it?" Zayn suggested quietly, as to not wake Louis up. 

"I guess. I just hate seeing him so tired. Have you noticed that he does this a lot, falling asleep on the way to places?" I asked. 

Niall nodded and Zayn made a little sound of agreement. 

"It's a little dangerous, don't you think? Like, if you don't get enough sleep, can't your body just shut down and you just pass out?" Niall asked.

"I dunno, " I said. 

The car jerked to a sudden stop and Louis's head flew up as he blinked awake. 

"We almost there?" he mumbled drowsily. 

I noticed the dark circles under his eyes and how pale exhaustion had left his usually tan skin. 

"Yeah, I think so," I said. 

He grimaced and rubbed his eyes. yawning.

"Was I out for long?" he asked.

"About three minutes," Niall snorted.

Louis groaned and yawned again. 

"Christ, I'm tired," he sighed.

"Lou, we were talking, and we thought you could see if you could use like liquid medicine to help you sleep since pills make you uncomfortable," I suggested. 

He looked at me, his eyes dull.

"I don't need anything, Liam. I'm fine," he snapped. 

"You aren't fine, Louis. You can hardly keep your eyes open," Zayn argued, "And no offense mate, but you look terrible." 

"Well, I'm sorry that I have fucking nightmares every time I close my eyes! No bloody medicine can erase these fucking memories, can it?" Louis snarled. 

I could sense a fight coming on, and I quickly set out to put a stop to it.

"Lou, calm down. It was just a suggestion, okay? You don't have to if you really don't want to. We just want you to be healthy, yeah?" I said gently.

"I'm fine," Louis snapped, crossing his arms across his chest. 

Zayn glared at him, irritated with Louis's stubbornness. Thankfully, before either of them could launch a bigger war, the car stopped and we were being ordered to get out. 

I couldn't see any fans, but I knew that they'd probably be outside when we left. 

I looped my arm around Louis's shoulders and he sagged in my grip. 

"I think I'm more mentally tired than physically tired," he said quietly.

"We all are. I'm just worried for you, Lou. I don't like seeing you so tired," I said softly. 

He nodded, looking defeated. 

Louis was strong, he'd proven it many times since we'd been put together. It was unnerving to see him so helpless. 

"I feel dizzy," he whispered to me as we went up steps inside of the building, trying to reach the right floor. 

"Are you alright?" I asked, immediately worried.

"I dunno. I just feel really light-headed," he mumbled.

I noticed that he was breathing much heavier than a flight of stairs required. 

"You should probably sit down, okay? Taking the stairs when you're so tired isn't a good idea," I said quickly.

He nodded. I noticed the color draining from his face and my heart started to beat quickly from nervousness and worry.

We reached the top of the flight and Niall and Zayn started to jog up the next set of steps. 

"Wait, hold on," I called.

I led Louis over to the bottom of the steps and he sagged down against the wall, sitting on the edge of a step. 

He was sweating, I noticed. 

"What's wrong?" Zayn asked, running back down the stairs. 

"Dizzy," Louis said quietly, leaning his head back. 

Zayn swore under his breath and sat down next to Louis. He rubbed his hand over Louis's arm in a comforting gesture. 

"I feel like I'm going to pass out or something," Louis whispered.

"It's alright, Lou, just relax for a few minutes," I said.

Niall stood against the railing and chewed his nail.

"Go run up and tell someone that we're going to be a bit late," I ordered. 

He nodded and took off up the stairs.

"I'm so sorry," Louis sighed, "I just can't sleep no matter what I do and now I feel so dizzy all the time, but it's never really been this bad."

"You also haven't been running up stairs recently. You're already so exhausted and you didn't have any energy to do so," I said. 

"I'm sorry," he repeated, biting his lip.

He opened his eyes and I saw that they were swimming with tears. 

"Sh, it's okay. Do you think you can stand? I can carry you if you want," I offered, smiling at him. 

I stood and helped pull him up. He swayed a little as he stood. He jumped onto my back.

I wasn't weak by any means, but with the added weight on my back and three more flights of stairs, I was winded by the time we reached the correct office. 

I put Louis down, but kept an arm tightly around him. 

His color was returning.

We walked in, and Niall rushed over.

"You okay, Louis?" he asked.

"'M fine now, Niall," Louis said, attempting at a small smile. 

We went through the meeting and nobody mentioned Louis's incident on the stairs. I carried him back down, which was terrifying as it threw my balance off. 

We went back to Harry's place with him. I clutched a bottle of medicine that we'd picked up on our way.

"Come on, Lou," I sighed as he kept his mouth locked shut. 

He shook his head, his eyes wide and he almost looked scared. 

"Louis, we can't have another episode like today. You really need to sleep. Just do it, okay? Don't think about it," Zayn coaxed. 

"No, I'm really not comf-"

Louis was cut off as I quickly shoved the plastic cup against his open mouth and tipped the contents inside. 

Zayn pinched Louis's nose shut and Niall made sure he didn't spit anything out. 

Louis looked like he was going to cry as he thrashed against us. I held his hands together.

With a protesting cough, he swallowed the medicine. 

He immediately stormed into Harry's room, I wasn't sure if I considered it Louis's, and slammed the door.

"Well, we just made him really mad," Niall sighed, placing the cap back on the bottle.

"It's for a good cause. He kind of scared me today," Zayn admitted. 

"Did you see how pale his face got? It was freaky," Niall agreed. 

We waited about fifteen minutes before creeping into Harry's room.

Louis was sprawled out on the bed, his face tear stained. 

But he was asleep. 

Zayn, Niall, and I exchanged silent high-fives and left Louis to a well-earned rest.

 

Harry's POV

I picked at the chicken in front of me and grimaced. 

I was allowed to choose my own meals because my stomach had adjusted to a lot of food, but I hadn't tried to eat meat before. 

I had hardly taken a few bites before I vomited. 

Yeah. It was way too complex for my stomach to handle.

I slunk back to my room after a bowl of soup, a routine dish after I threw up. 

I immediately went into the bathroom and glared at myself in the mirror. I felt like I could see the calories attaching themselves to me. I could practically see myself getting heavier as I watched. 

I stayed in the bathroom until I had to go and see Aysiah. 

Our visits always consisted of conversation for the first half, then she would try and bring up Louis and I would refuse to talk for the rest of our time.

I entered and she smiled. I gave her my usual scowl. 

"How are you today, Harry?" she asked politely. 

"Terrible," I grumbled. 

I had discovered how fat I was, of course I wasn't doing well!

"Why?" she asked.

I shrugged.

"Because I really fucking hate this place. I don't want to eat, but I have to. I want to cut, but I can't. I just want everything to go away!" I snarled. 

Aysiah nodded carefully.

"Harry, you're here to help everything bad to go away. Starving yourself, self-harming, and abusing your medication was not helping you. I know that it's hard right now, but it will get better," she said comfortingly.

"It'll never get better. Not unless Louis suddenly loves me," I snapped.

I felt my chest squeeze when I said his name and tears rushed to my eyes upon instinct. 

"You've never said his name before," Aysiah said. 

"It slipped out," I spat through gritted teeth, trying to control myself. 

"Could you talk about him more now that you've said his name once? I think it's time that you do, honestly. Keeping all of your thoughts blocked off or bottled up isn't healthy," she said.

I clenched my hands into fists and glared at the floor. 

"No. I don't want to talk about him now and I don't want to talk about him ever," I hissed. 

"Have you let yourself think about how it's going to be when you leave here? You're going to have to face him almost every day. You can't just dive in head first back into reality, Harry. You need to prepare yourself," she warned. 

I cringed. I'd heard the same lecture from Felix before. I understood where they were coming from, but I couldn't help it. I just couldn't think about him; it hurt so badly. 

"At least tell me why it's so difficult for you to talk about him. I know that you have negative memories associated with him, but you've shared negative memories with me before. What's so different about him?" Aysiah prompted. 

I shook my head slowly. I was being pulled into a conversation that I didn't want to have. 

"It just hurts to think about him," I whispered. 

"Why?" she asked. 

"Because when I do, I just remember how much I love him and how he doesn't love me like that. Love is stronger than any other emotion that I feel regarding him and I just can't talk about him without hurting," I said, my throat tight.

"Why do you love him, then? What's so special about him that you can't get over and it makes you hurt like this?" Aysiah asked, "Why not love somebody who will love you back?" 

She was being quite blunt and I wasn't sure if I liked or hated it. I decided that I hated her in general, just because she was forcing me to talk about things I didn't want to talk about. 

I picked at a rip in my jeans and stayed quiet. I tried to force my thoughts into a back room of my brain so that I wouldn't have to answer her. They wouldn't go and the thoughts of soft chestnut hair and bright blue eyes overwhelmed me. 

"He's just...he's perfect. He's gorgeous. He's got these amazing blue eyes and his hair is always so soft and intentionally messy. He's really short too, and I think that it's absolutely adorable. He's always so loud and funny and bossy and stubborn, but he can be really serious and he's an amazing listener. He does the nicest things, too. Like this one time when I got sick, he essentially blew off Zayn so he could stay with me and take care of me even though I really wasn't very sick. But he's just so perfect," I said, smiling slightly. 

Then I realized that all of the things that I loved about him could never be mine and I had to lower my head to blink tears away. 

"Then what do you dislike about him?" Aysiah asked. 

I glared at her. I was trying so hard not to start bawling and she carried on like I was perfectly happy. 

"He never noticed how depressed I was until Liam made me show him. I don't like how oblivious he was. And I hate that he doesn't love me like I love him. But I can't hate anything else about him," I answered, "He's just so perfect." 

My voice was so thick that it sounded like I was being choked. In all honesty, I would have preferred to be choked than to talk about him. 

"You're not saying his name," Aysiah commented.

"Neither are you," I countered.

"No. I figured that since you weren't comfortable saying it yourself, you wouldn't be comfortable with me saying it. Can you say his name?" she asked.

It sounded like a challenge. I shook my head, but I couldn't help but open my mouth to try. 

"L-Lou," I mumbled, "Louis. I'm in love with Louis Tomlinson and I really fucking hate it but his name is Louis and I love him."

She grinned her approval. 

I shut my eyes and let his name bounce around inside of my head. It hurt and I felt my head start to pound. 

"I want to be done for today," I whispered, covering my face with my hands, "I don't want to talk about him anymore." 

I felt bile start to rise in my throat and I wondered how upset Aysiah would be if I vomited all over her desk. 

"We don't have to if you really don't think that you can," she said gently, "But it's very good that you've started to talk about him." 

"I feel sick," I mumbled, "I want to go and sleep."

"Alright. We can be done if you want then," she said.

I got up to leave. 

"Wait, Harry," she called.

I turned, my vision blurry with unshed tears. I knew what she was going to ask.

"Do you still want to die?" she asked.

She asked the same question at the end of every session. I had never hesitated to say yes.

I thought about Louis. He had always been the one light in the darkness that I had become. He'd been the fraying rope that I'd held on to when I felt the worst. But when he'd proposed, the light had shut off and the rope had snapped. I'd gotten lost and I'd fallen until I could fall no further and I had to end my own life. 

I remembered how I'd felt when I woke up. I'd wanted to see him so badly and beg him to love me since I had told him how I felt about him.

I remembered how hurt and torn he'd sounded when he had talked to me while he thought that I was sleeping. I had been the reason for the pain and confusion in his voice. 

Emotions swirled inside of my body, threatening to burst and destroy me. I wanted to be destroyed; I wanted to be ruined. I wanted to die so badly because I couldn't have what I needed the most. 

"Yes," I replied, hardly missing a beat. 

Aysiah nodded in return, and motioned for me to leave. 

I had grown used to stumbling back to my room, blind from the tears I hadn't shed while talking to Aysiah. 

I crept inside and made out a blurry Felix on his bed. I climbed in next to him and buried my face in his shoulder. 

In his familiar, comforting presence, I broke down, sobbing uncontrollably.

He simply held me, his arms tight and warm around my body, and he shushed me gently.

"What's gotten you so upset this time?" he asked, his voice soft. 

I took several deep, shuddering breaths and sniffed back more tears.

"I talked about him. Louis," I whispered, "And it hurts, Felix, it hurts really, really bad." 

A few more tears slid out and soaked into his shirt as he pulled me in tighter, kissing my hair. 

With a wave of longing, I realized how similar the relationship between Felix and I was to Louis and I before he had gotten fed up with the rumors. I remembered Louis holding me as I cried when we had gotten voted off the X-Factor as he had cried himself. It was one of the rare moments that he let himself do so. 

I didn't want to replace Louis. I wanted him as he was, but I wanted him as mine and I couldn't have him. 

"Doesn't it feel a little good though? You've been holding your thoughts about him inside of you for so long," Felix said.

"I wish he didn't exist sometimes," I admitted, feeling guilty the second that I said it, "I wouldn't have to hurt so much."

"But think about the good memories with him. You wouldn't have those if he didn't exist," Felix pointed out, running his hand through my hair.

I shut my eyes and laid my head on his shoulder. 

"I wish I didn't exist. I want to die all the time, more than I want to cut or throw up," I said quietly. 

Felix sighed heavily. 

"But think about how much you have to lose. You have four, five if you're counting me, best friends who think the world of you, all of your fans who you mean everything to, your family, One Direction that isn't One Direction without you, and just everything that you've worked so hard for. You'd lose it all if you died," he said.

I fumbled around his face until I found his mouth and pressed a finger to it.

"Shut up. You're making me feel guilty and selfish," I sighed.

"That's kind of the point," he mumbled around my finger, pulling it off and holding my hand in his.

I made an effort to pull it away, but he tightened his grip.

"Look at the difference of our hands," he said. 

I opened my eyes and lifted my head as he put our hands side by side on his chest.

"Yours are so skinny. You can practically see through them," he mused, "I've got thin fingers but they look fat next to yours."

I took my hand away. 

"Did you talk to Aysiah about how you feel about gaining weight?" he asked. 

I shook my head. 

"Harry," he sighed, sounding disappointed.

I cringed, hating the tone of his voice. 

"She started talking about you know, Louis, and it just slipped my mind, Felix. It's not a big deal anyways," I muttered, shifting away from him. 

It felt cold on the edge of his bed. 

"Harry, it is a big deal. If you feel this way now, then how are you going to feel when you're back at a healthy weight? I don't want you to leave and then drop all that weight again like Matt did. I don't want another phone call telling me that my best friend died," he snapped. 

"Am I your best friend?" I asked, moving back and throwing an arm around him. 

"I don't have anyone else," he said softly, "Yeah, you're my best friend."

"Louis used to be my best friend. And then I fell in love with him and fucked everything up. I think you might be my best friend too," I mumbled, yawning.

Crying had tired me out. I shut my eyes again and nosed his arm until he wrapped it around me. I laid my head on his chest and listened to his heart beat. 

It was another thing that I had done with Louis. We had cuddled so much that our own band mates had questioned our relationship. I remembered one time when I had been laying on Zayn's lap, Louis had literally picked me up and carried me away so I could cuddle with him instead. It had been way back when I was actually smaller than him. 

"Then don't put me through what Matt did. I wouldn't be able to take it if it happened again," he sighed, absently running his fingers through my hair.

I hummed in content. 

"I'll try. You help me a lot, you know," I said drowsily. 

"That's nice to hear. I wish I could help more. I hate seeing you hurt all the time. I really hate when you don't get out of bed or talk to anyone for days. It scares me, you know," he sighed, "I really do care a lot about you. I wish that I could stay with you until you leave." 

"You're leaving in like a month and a half, aren't you?" I mumbled, "You better visit. Or just stay or something. I don't wanna be alone."

"You'll get another roommate, I think," Felix said.

I yawned again in response. 

"You're comfortable. My new roommate wouldn't be this comfortable," I slurred, sleep taking over.

He laughed softly.

"Just go to sleep, popstar. You're practically falling asleep mid-sentence," he said. 

I nodded and drifted off. 

When I woke up, I was startled to find myself in my own bed and Felix out of the room. 

I looked at the time. According to his schedule, Felix was at his own therapy appointment. He had some man who specialized in substance abuse. 

My stomach growled and I rolled my eyes. I stood and put my shoes on to go out. God forbid that I ever feel hungry.

I got a plate of spaghetti and a bowl of salad and stomped over to a table. I choked down the food and glared at the clock as I waited to be allowed to leave. 

When a sufficient amount of time passed, I couldn't get back to my room fast enough. I just wanted to sleep. I wasn't necessarily tired; I just wanted to be alone and with all the nurses watching my every move, sleep felt like the only time I got to be alone. 

My stomach gave a little lurch as I stepped inside and I had to cover my mouth to keep from throwing up. Pasta always made me feel more sick than just making my stomach hurt. 

Felix gave me a sympathetic glance as I wordlessly fell into my bed. 

"I've been thinking," he started. 

"Good job," I mumbled, dry-heaving again. 

Felix payed it no attention. He knew that I wouldn't actually throw up if I hadn't already. 

"You've never sung for me. You're a world-famous popstar and I've known you for almost two months, yet I've never heard you sing," he said. 

"I don't want to sing," I grumbled, "Reminds me too much of him."

"Your voice is getting out of practice. You should sing so you don't get rusty," he advised, "Plus, I want to hear you." 

"If I sing now, you'll get digested spaghetti all over you," I groaned, flinching as my stomach cramped. 

"Just one song. Little Things," he prompted.

"Why do you know our songs? You hardly knew who I was when I came," I sighed, sitting up.

"I told you, my sister likes you guys. I might have done a bit of research too," he said.

I frowned. 

"How? We're not allowed access to the Internet," I said.

"You're not allowed," he corrected. 

"It's just me? I've never seen any computers or anything. Why is it just me?" I asked, extremely confused. 

"Harry, not all of us are popstars who get thousands of hate messages a day. They don't want you to see that, so no Internet for you. To answer your other question, you've got to ask a staff member to use a computer. There's some office room or something if you need to use one," Felix replied. 

I made a face.

"Why can't I just go on? I want to talk to the fans and let them know that I'm alright," I said, wrinkling my nose. 

"It's not good for your metal health, popstar," he said simply, "You could always make another one of those videos."

I shrugged and my stomach cramped again.

"Fuck," I groaned, laying back and running my hands over my face, "Just...fuck me."

"I'm not into that kind of thing," Felix joked.

I glared at him and he lifted his hands defensively. 

"You seem more like a top anyways. Plus, Louis has a nice arse," he continued, laughing. 

I flinched and immediately stood and escaped to the bathroom, locking the door behind me.

I knew that Felix was just joking around, but he knew that anything regarding Louis was off limits.

"Harry? Look, I'm sorry, I know that that was really tasteless. I'm sorry," he said on the other side of the door.

I sunk to the floor and hugged my knees to my chest, fresh tears wetting my jeans.

It seemed like the only thing I could do was cry. I couldn't cut or throw up or take pills to make myself feel better or at least a little numb. I couldn't do anything anymore and it was all strange and scary.

I started to cry harder; I wasn't even sure what I was crying about anymore. I didn't know if it was over Felix's innuendo or how out of control I was feeling. 

I got to my knees and rifled through the bathroom as quietly as possible, looking desperately for anything remotely sharp. 

I couldn't find anything and I choked on sob. Felix was still apologizing profusely and begging me to open the door.

I looked into the mirror and saw a stranger. When had I become so foreign to myself? I didn't recognize the malnourished body that I thought was fat, or the scars that were scattered across my body, of the broken tears that slipped out of my eyes. 

I paced back and forth in the small space and tugged at my hair, willing myself to calm down before I had an anxiety attack. 

I gripped the counter so hard that my knuckles turned white and I took slow, deep breaths. 

I couldn't even control my breathing. Just the feeling of having no grip on myself made panic race through my body and my attempts at steady breathing were lost. My sides heaved as I tried to force air into my lungs, to much, yet not enough. 

"Harry? Seriously, I can hear your breathing and it doesn't sound good; let me in so I can help you," Felix pleaded. 

My skin crawled with the burning need to release the panic I felt and lights hovered at the edge of my vision as I started to hyperventilate.

I slid back to the ground, too weak to stand. I had a vague feeling of pain as my forehead hit the counter. I tried everything that my clouded mind could think of to calm down, or at least get up and let Felix in, but I couldn't move. 

I knew that I needed his help, that I really was in a dangerous situation, but I couldn't make myself move. All of my strength was going towards fighting to breath. 

I choked on air and I sucked in desperate mouthfuls of oxygen as I struggled to even stay conscious. 

I knew that if I could just cut or throw up, I could calm down. I just needed to take control of myself again. 

Anxiety attacks are absolutely terrifying. I couldn't breath or even think as I lay on the floor, trying to focus on something in the room in order to stay awake. 

I distantly heard Felix pounding on the door and the sound of my own frantic hyperventilating. 

I felt numb, but at the same time, I could feel wetness on my face. I wasn't sure if it was tears or spit as I continued to choke. 

Lights crowded into my vision, making me even dizzier, and then it just went black.