Stockholm Syndrome (Larry Stylinson)

It's Over; Always

Chapter 34:

LOUIS

His hands on Harry's skin. Running through his hair. Kissing up his neck. Breathing heavily. Making him moan out his name instead. Giving him pleasure only I should have been giving him. It all kept racing through my head.

I couldn't handle it. My knuckles gripped tightly onto the steering wheel. I hated everything. I hated Niall. I hated life. I hated myself. But... I didn't haye Harry. Even if I wanted to, all I could do is love him. Love him with all of my heart and soul.

But the thoughts and images kept coming. They kept racing through my mind. One after the other. Visual torments. I sped up, stomping on the gas pedal until it was nearly touching the car floor. I was crying, but I didn't care. I didn't care about anything anymore. Except Harry.

Harry. I needed Harry. Harry was my drug. He took the pain away. He made me feel like I could breathe. He made me feel like things were going to be okay. But now he was in the arms of someone else. If they went along with it. A small part of me thought there's no way Harry went along with it, but the bigger part of me holds onto the fact that I pushed him to it. He needed love that I denied him. He could have been in my arms right now instead.

I pounded at my steering wheel, feeling like I was losing so much more than my mind. I felt the cold air from outside on my skin, making me numb on the surface, but it only made me feel so much more pain underneath. Stinging pain. Burning pain. Regretful pain. Heartbreak.

I was crying so badly now, thinking of Harry loving someone else. Being loved by someone else. Telling someone else that he loves them. Telling me that he no longer loves me. Calling me worthless and useless. Telling me the things I already know about myself. Telling me he never truly loved me, just like I told him that lie.

"FUCK!" I yelled loudly, banging my fists on the steering wheel in anger and trying to wipe some tears from my eyes, but they kept flowing right out. I squeezed them shut for a second and wiped away all the excess tears-useless and foolish of me.

I heard a car honk, and I opened my eyes, seeing that I was swiveling right for an oncoming truck. It was going fast, trying to keep up with the little car infront of it. "Shit!" I said, turning my steering wheel at the last second, a corner of the truck making my car spin around. I finally got it to stop and parked it on the side lane of the street. I came so close to death in that split second, but the only thing holding me back was the fact that Harry was still back home. He was still there, and I hurt him. I couldn't hurt him anymore.

"He wouldn't have cared." The voice in my head whispered. "He doesn't even love you." But it was right. He probably didn't love me. Who could love someone so angry? Someone so vile to everyone around him. I was toxic, and Harry still deserved better, but deep down I know nobody could love him more than I could.

I cried against the steering wheel, just thinking of ways I could possibly make Harry forgive me and take me back. I ruined him. He was so pure and innocent when he first got here, and I fucked with his mind and with him. It was a terrible thing for me to do, but I needed him ever since I first saw him.

"Get a fucking grip, Louis. Why would Harry want you back? You screwed him over and made him feel pain. Now it's your turn." I told myself, and it was true. I was feeling the pain. So much pain. All in my chest, suffocating me. Making it seem like, no matter what I do, my life is already over. It was over before Harry, and now it's over after him. I never knew I needed him this badly that he basically became a part of me, but I do. I always will.

I wiped my eyes as best I could, but I felt so upset and hopeless that the tears still fell, though more slowly due to how much I have already cried. I sniffled, feeling a horrible sting in my heart. I wanted a more numbing feeling, but alcohol wasn't an option right now. Even if Harry didn't love me anymore, I loved him and knew he would hate if anything happened to anyone while they were drinking and driving. Plus, it would make him feel guilty if I got hurt. He didn't deserve to feel that guilt.