"The fear of being forgotten, replaced, abandoned. Harry, you have this fear. It's called athazagoraphobia. The symptoms for this fear are irregular heartbeat, shortness of breathe, slurred words or phrases, nausea and tremors of the body." Harry's private doctor said putting out his brown suit case and putting back all the items he laid out to see what was wrong with Harry. "Is that bad?" Harry asked quietly. He called the doctor because he thought he was sick, he was having headaches and his hear his heart beating faster then normal. He was dizzy for the entire day and had to stay in bed. "Well, it isn't a sickness. Maybe you just need to catch up with your friends sometime, okay." The doctor said. "Promise me that you won't be so alone in this house anymore, get out some more Harry." The doctor finished grabbing his brown suit case. "I promise." Harry said. "I'll show myself to the door, you on the other hand should take a shower and go out on the town." The doctor said before leaving Harry's bedroom. When he left Harry could feel a warm tear fall from his eye. "I have no friends." He said getting up from his bed. Niall, Niall was just an old pal. Liam, well I doubt he wants to see me. I haven't talked to him in ages. Well, Zayn isn't my friend. I don't like to even call him my friend. Nick Grimshaw? Nick is a old man, married with 3 adopted children. Josh Devine? He's moved on. He's still drumming with other bands. Gemma? My sister? She's married, with 2 children. Lou Teasdale? Happily living with her family. Lux? Baby Lux? She's not a baby anymore. She's probably forgotten all about me.
Harry chuckled remembering the times he spent with all of his friends, enjoying the memories. He was taking a shower and enjoyed thinking of his good memories. But they soon started to fade away into horrible memories, fights with Louis, fighting because of how selfish Harry was. Harry touched the scar he had from the time he cut to hard, and ran his fingers over it in the hot water. It still hurt to think about the memory. The scar would probably be there forever, it would mean everything to Harry whenever he saw it, but to Louis, it was just another dead memory.
Harry finished taking his shower, thinking about all of the depressing things in his life he reached for the blade in his medicine cabinet, he put on some boxers before looking at his thighs, red marks slashed his thighs, the word "why" marked almost everywhere.
When he finished leaving the marks on his thighs, he put on some sweatpants. His thighs burned and stinged from the cutting. Harry heard his doorbell ring. "Coming." Harry said walking down his stairs putting on a normal black v neck. It was Louis. It seemed as if Louis was debating whether to talk to Harry or just leave. "H-hi...Louis." Harry said questioning why Louis was at his house. "I-I came to talk, Harry." Louis replied. "About what?" Harry said, one part of his mind hoping they could makeup and just love each other again like before. "Can I come in?" Louis asked. "S-sure." Harry mumbled opening the door for Louis. Louis walked into the house, the house was in the same condition when Louis left it. Harry didn't even redecorate or take down any photos, nothing. It was the same house. "I like what you've done to the place." Louis said sarcastically. "I've done nothing at all." Harry said plainly, not understanding Louis sarcasm. "It was a joke- never mind." Louis said. Louis walked to the living room and sat on the couch, followed by Harry not sitting next to him, even though the couch could hold 5 people. Harry sat on a side seat, it was all red to match the couch. That was Louis choice. "Now what do you want to talk about." Harry said. "Your doctor called me-" Louis started off before being cut off by Harry. "I fucking told him not to." Harry grumbled. "Why wouldn't you want me to know about this?" Louis said ignoring Harry's reaction. "Because it's none of your business." Harry slurred. "Did you drink?" Louis asked noticing Harry slurring. "No." Harry said. "Then why did you just slur." Louis asked. "It's a symptom from my athazagorapho- never mind." Harry said. "I know that you have athazagoraphobia, Harry." Louis said. "Then why ask me about it?" Harry replied. "I just wanted to see if you yourself would actually tell me." Louis rolled his eyes at Harry's ignorance. "Can we be friends, like the old days?" Louis asked suddenly. "I don't think things will be just like in the old days, Louis." Harry responded. "Harry, can't we just be friends? Then figure out the rest as we go." Louis asked putting his hand on Harry's thigh, making Harry wince. Louis could feel the wetness of blood that damped Harry's sweatpants. The sweat pants were gray, which caused the blood to stain Harry's pants. Also causing Louis to see the blood. "Harr- are you doing this- a-again?" Louis said feeling a big lump in his throat, hurting when he swallowed. "It's nothing." Harry said pulling his leg away from Louis. "How the fuck is that nothing Harry. You're bleeding and you literally winced when I fucking touched your leg." Louis said getting irritated with Harry. "It's nothing." Harry said his voice rising. "Harry you're fucking cutting! Again! When I told you to fucking stop!" Louis said. "It doesn't fucking concern you!" Harry shouted back. Louis was quiet. This is the first time Harry's ever shouted at Louis. And Louis knew that Harry had to be angry whenever he shouted. More then angry, furious. "Harry just let me help you-" "No!" Harry said running upstairs slamming his bedroom door. Harry felt tears running down his face from the pain of his cuts, to the pain in his heart. He clamped his hand over his mouth to prevent making noises. He went to his bed and cried quietly.
Louis was shocked by Harry's reaction, why didn't Harry want Louis to help him?
Louis stayed in Harry's house, he sat near Harry's bedroom door. Eventually falling asleep on the floor curled up as a ball.
Harry couldn't sleep, he walked out of his bedroom to find Louis sleeping, He look's so peaceful. I want to just hug him and cuddle and kiss him and- Jesus fuck, Harry, stop acting like a damn 12 year old. Harry thought. He grabbed a big warm blanket from his bed and laid it over Louis. He left his bedroom door open and smiled, going to bed watching Louis, a part of him wishing Louis would climb into bed with him, just to cuddle.
Dear Diary, I woke up at 8:00AM today, and saw that Louis had left. He left me a note saying:
"I'll be back later." It was a simple note, but for some reason it meant a lot to me. He left the blanket folded on my bed, and I could feel him watching me. I could feel him putting my blanket on me, I could see him. He just doesn't know that I was watching him stare at me. I kept my eyes shut and almost failed. When he gave me a kiss on my check I almost failed to keep a straight face, luckily he walked out before I could get my hopes up to big.
Love, Harry.
