better than that [larry stylinson] ✔️

" easy come, easy go "

It was visiting day for those who have parents who actually care about them inside of the asylum, though Harry did not feel like moving from his bed, nor leaving his room, which he had been in since yesterday afternoon.

After lunch time, he got into an argument with one of the people in the lunch line since they shoved him forward and didn't apologize. The staff almost revoked his privilege to see his parents today, but they came to a compromise and took notice that it wasn't Harry's fault, though he would not be eating in the lunchroom with them for a week.

It wasn't necessarily a punishment since Harry couldn't care any less about being around people, but it kind of was since he is left alone with his thoughts, which only got worse as the days pass. Every time his body shivered, he feared that Louis was nearby and stood still until the feeling went away.

His therapist told him consistently that it was just the guilt eating him from the inside that is making him see Louis as a demon, and that he just needs to take his pills, but they weren't working, and Harry is starting to become better at coughing them upright after.

One of the staff members come into his room with a bright smile on her face and a clipboard in hand, then nods her head out of the door to let Harry know to follow her. He almost just sits there, but then he remembers that he had not seen his parents in a long time, and he needs answers.

So he follows the member until he is led into a room where a glass mirror separates him from the other side - kind of like a prison. All he needs is a jumpsuit and a number on him.

He expects to see both his mother and father sitting behind the glass with grim expressions on their faces, but it is only his mother, who sits dressed in all black, her eyes shifting around the vicinity curiously. She notices Harry as soon as he walks in and takes a seat in the chair, and she waits until the guard moves to the farthest part of the room to pick up the phone.

Harry does the same and, without hesitation, he asks, "Where is dad?"

"Well, hello, Harry." his mother greets dully, and she sighs when she gets no other response. "Your father is too distraught to come. He's at home right now. It's not that he doesn't want to see you, Harry. . .it's just-"

"He doesn't want to see me. He doesn't want to see me because he thinks that I killed Louis. He thinks that I murdered someone with my bare fucking hands, that's why. Fuck him." Harry spits. "Why are you here? Come to tell me to admit the truth as well?"

"No, Harry. I came here because I believe you, but there is nothing I can do about it." Harry's mother replies quietly into the phone, and she watches as Harry's face shifts into something unbelievable.

So that he doesn't gain too much hope, he scoffs and rolls his eyes while leaning back against the chair. "You believe me? Why? Are you just saying this because you feel guilty for me that I can't even experience most of my life because I'll be here until I actually have to go to court, then prison? If so, you can take your lies and leave them outside."

"No, I just-" Anne pauses and begins to bite her nails. "I know you didn't. You just- you're too sweet of a boy, Harry. I came here to see you even though I had a few errands to run . . . can't you see that I have faith in you? You're better than that."

The word errands begin to ring in Harry's ear for some unknown reason, and his eyes start to squint as he tries to force himself to think about something that happened long ago. The thing about thinking about the past is that he can never decipher which memory is real or not. He can't remember if he actually introduced Louis to the Horan Boys, or if he actually saw the way Louis looked the day that he went missing.