rescue me / larry

eighteen / guilt

Harry didn't know what he was supposed to do after Zayn left the flat. Everything around him was quiet once again and he just sat on the floor in the middle of Louis' room, sobbing to himself. He couldn't stop the tears and his thoughts were a mess.

He didn't know how much time had passed until his eyes seemed to have dried out and he got the courage to stand up. Harry's legs hurt from sitting for so long and his eyes felt crusty and swollen, he didn't feel good at all.

Harry couldn't understand what had gotten into Zayn, why he changed his mind so fast. One minute he was supportive and tried to cheer up, telling him it wasn't his fault and everything was going to be okay; the next moment he yelled at Harry and told him the exact opposite thing and god, it wasn't helping Harry at all.

His mind was a mess as he picked up Louis' diary and placed it back into the box. He suddenly felt really bad for reading it and Harry didn't want to imagine what would happen if Louis found out he did. It was something Louis had hidden for a reason, it contained a lot of personal things that Harry wasn't supposed to know. If he could delete it off his memory he would in a heartbeat.

Harry shoved the box under the bed again, opened a window to let fresh air into the room and just dropped down on the bed. He pulled the duvet over himself and closed his eyes, inhaling Louis' scent.

Tears were welling up in his eyes again and Harry just wished Louis would be here in his arms, telling him everything was okay, and Harry felt selfish. Louis was the one who needed people to be there for him, not Harry. Harry should be wishing he could hold Louis and tell him things were going up again.

And that was how Harry fell asleep cuddled into Louis' bed, tears running down his cheeks, dropping on the pillow, making it wet.

And it wasn't a comfortable sleep, it was a dark, dreamless hole he fell into.
~
Zayn walked into Louis' room, dropping the suitcase on the other bed that wasn't used. Louis was watching him, not saying a word. He was still hooked up to countless machines and he looked more tired than ever, if that was possible.

"How are you feeling?" Zayn asked, sitting down at the end of Louis' bed. The brown-haired boy shrugged, looking down on the blanket before he looked up again.

"How's Harry?" Louis asked instead of answering his friends question, but he just had to. Even though they argued and Louis refused to see his best friend he still didn't leave his mind once.

Louis felt bad because Harry just wanted to help him, and he didn't quite understand himself. He always wanted people to see through his lies, but once someone did the walls he built around himself got even higher. Maybe Louis hated being forced to face things he was fully aware of.

Louis wasn't dumb, he was fully aware that he needed help and that he couldn't get out of this alone. He tried to stop it before and just ended up being in deeper shit than before. He was fully aware the disorder controlled him and not the other way around.

The thing was, it was hard to accept things you already knew when it came to yourself. It was hard accepting you needed someone else to help you, it was hard admitting your weaknesses even if they're already visible to everyone else.

"He's okay," Zayn said, sounding unsure. "I think," he then quietly added.

Louis raised one eyebrow. "You think?"