Worthless Beauty L.S *Under Massive Editing*

T W O

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"Okay so.." Louis begins, though he trails off to jot a few things down. He had moved to seat across from Harry.  He felt it was more professional, rather than sitting next to him as he did during there small argument. "How do you feel?"

"Fine." Harry answers monotone and Louis is looking up through his eyelashes to look at him over his clipboard. 

"If you were fine , you wouldn't be here." he points out, tapping his pen against the arm of the chair.

"Fine. I feel horrible, are you happy?"

"And why do you feel horrible?" he pries.

"Because I- look this is no use." Harry stands up from his seat and tries to head towards the door again, but Louis is quick to stand and grab him by his wrist.

"Sit." he says sternly. Harry does as told with hesitation, feeling a little more than he ever has. No one had ever made the effort to keep him from leaving. Though, as he sat the sour mood crept back up on him and he was staring at the floor again.

Louis lets out a sigh, already feeling like he's failed his first patient, but he knows it takes more than just a simple, you'll be okay  to help someone. God, does he know it. "Okay. So if you're not gonna talk to me... I will try a different approach." He stares at the teenager for awhile making the room go silent. It does nothing, but make the atmosphere awkward. 

And after a while the awkwardness slowly vanishes as the two begin to get used to it. It's not till then Louis realizes how long Harry's eyelashes are, they curl at the tips - like his hair -instead of just jutting straight out like his own. He says before he can catch up with his thoughts, "You have nice eyelashes."     

Harry startles at the sound of Louis' voice, it had been a while since either of them spoke a single word. He gives Louis a strange look and strains to thank the man. "Thanks?" he misses the silence.

"You're welcome." Louis says and the conversation seems to dissipate after that. Surely that approach didn't work, lets think of another one. Ah Ha I got it. He thinks"So... Harry. How was your day today? Did you do anything fun?" As soon as the scoff from Harry is heard, Louis regrets asking the question, he remembers hating being asked that question. It never felt genuine.

Louis opens his mouth to speak again, but doesn't get the chance to as Harry finally cracks, "I never do anything, mostly because my parents won't let me or I'm just sooo fucking depressed to do anything." And Louis hates that the chemicals in his brain send him into a whirl of excitement at the answer.

"How long have you been depressed?" he approaches cautiously, not wanting Harry to crawl back into shell and hide.

"Since I was in the grade six." Harry answers involuntarily scratching at his wrist. 

Louis gives a raised eyebrow and notes the strange behavior, he gives a small sad sigh and writes down 'cuts?' "What grade are you in now?"

"I'm a senior." Louis closes his eyes and inhales deeply, thinking the teenager is too young to go through any of this.. or so to say started out too young. It hurts Louis to know he's been depressed for six years. But he doesn't dwell on it because he reminds himself of the people who have been depressed for way longer. It's a terrible thing to think about seeing as he hates comparing so he shakes his head to rid all thoughts and he's looking at Harry blankly. 

"What started this chain?" Harry's eyes seems to look everywhere but Louis' face. His lower lip in between his teeth and his fingers fumbling with the hem of his jumper.