I'm fine. (Larry stylinson)

Chapter 2

Harry's stomach tightened. He tried his hardest not to think about it or else he would burst.

"I'm not feeling well, I'm just going to go sit down." Harry said as he pointed to the bench that brought back so many old happy memories.

He slowly walked over and sat down.

He lightly rubbed his fingers over the engraved letters in the old wooden bench.

Harry tightly closed his eyes to try and stop thinking about it.

"Stop it. Stop it. Stop it." He mumbled to himself with clenched teeth.

He then had a flashback. The bar, the drinks, this park. He slowly shook his head snapping out of it.

He went over to the boys. "I'm going to go home a lay down for bit okay?" They all allowed it.

Harry made his way up to his room. Slowly, he opened the drawer of his nightstand.

He took the blade in his right hand and slid it over his left wrist just above the old scars, soon opening new ones.

He didn't even flinch because he was so use to the pain.

He watched the blood slowly drip down his arm.

Harry wasn't the type to cry. Why would he cry when he's okay? Everything's okay.

He washed off his wrist and the blade mumbling to himself "its all my fault.

He put the blade back in the drawer pretending like nothing happened.

That was one thing he was good at; pretending. It was practically in his blood.