One Meaningless Promise

One Meaningless Promise~18

Harry walked into the bathroom, locking the door behind him. He turned the knob on the sink and wet his hands under the cool, flowing water. He splashed his face and dried it with a towel, then reaching under the sink and feeling around in the cabinet until his fingers brushed against the glass bottle. He put it next to the sink and shook one of his anxiety pills into his hand, holding it on his tongue and screwing off the lid of the whiskey bottle, swallowing the pill and the fiery liquid all at once. Harry put the bottle back in the cabinet and looked up, his eyes resting on the mirror-on himself. He looked...awake. Not like he had looked a few days ago. It made him kind of happy, looking in his reflection at this new, alive person that he didn't know he had in him.

Harry peeled his clothes off and turned on the shower as hot as it would go. He waited until the room was clouded with a thick layer of steam before he slipped into the shower. The hot water burned his skin as it slid over his back, chest and shoulders, but it felt good in a strange way, so he stood directly under the steady stream with his head down, letting the water sear him to the bone until it finally felt normal. He took his time as he washed his hair and face. Mindlessly, he let his hands wander down to his aching cock, the sudden need to release consuming his thoughts. His hands slipped up and down his length at a slow pace, and he leaned his forehead into the tile wall. His breaths quickened as his hands did, his jaw falling slack, the pleasure leeching moans from his lips. With a final tug, he sagged back against the wall, exhaustedly letting the water flow down his body. Then, he stepped out of the shower and secured a towel around his waist, flicking his head to the side to shake out the water from his hair.

Harry strolled out oft he bathroom and into his room, lazily throwing on a pair of boxers and grey sweatpants. He wasn't sure what to do next; he didn't know if Louis would want him to go back to his room again. After deciding that he was going to play it safe, Harry flopped onto his fluffy bed and stared at the ceiling, wishing he had his phone. What is going on in the outside world, he wondered. To him, it felt like he was trapped inside a box without windows, clueless to what was happening around him. Only what-a week left on this stupid island? Not too bad.

Things started being okay since Harry had taken up drinking and smoking. They helped him through the emotions he was too cowardly to face head-on; helped him be distracted from Louis. Mostly, he had stopped cutting a while ago. Late at night when everyone was asleep, Harry would have anxiety attacks. They were the worst ones he'd ever had; sometimes enough to make him fear for his life. He felt like he was drowning in air. The reason behind the attacks was still a mystery to him. He thought he had been doing alright, and then the next minute, he'd be sobbing and wheezing and crawling into a corner. He would always black out, and then wake hours later. Maybe it was the alcohol or the smoke, maybe it was Louis. Either way, it scared him like hell.

Quiet, peaceful, like the silence before the storm. Then, it hit. The breath was being sucked from his lungs by something invisible, fear clawing down his throat and settling in his gut as he gasped for air. His hands grabbed at his chest like if he tried hard enough, he could fight off this monster. Useless, helpless as he backed into a wall, his eyes screwing shut. A scream was lodged in his throat. He desperately breathed oxygen that was not coming in. A pounding-his heartbeat in his ears. He felt his eyes roll back in his head and his body went limp as he struggled to breath his last breath of air. Then, it was black.

That was how it was almost every night. At the time, Harry had no one to call for. Not Zayn, not Niall, Liam, or Louis. None of them were there for him anymore. None of them wanted anything to do with him anymore. But it was Harry's decisions that had driven them away, and if they couldn't live with his choices, then fuck them. They couldn't understand what he was going through. They couldn't help him. Harry just had to do it himself.

His room was cold. Every night, the humidity in the atmosphere would fade away into freezing air. The island had unpredictable weather; sunny and warm by day, rainy and frigid by night. It wasn't the type of weather Harry was used to experiencing in the UK.

Harry shifted uncomfortably under the blankets, throwing all of his pillows onto the floor until he was satisfied. He laid his head back on the mattress and shut his eyes, waiting for the loudening noise of the rain against the window to pull him into sleep. Harry liked rain. It reminded him of when he was little, and his mum used to tell him to imagine the thunderstorm as angels in heaven playing a game of bowling. He smiled lightly, and realised that tears had built in his eyes, and he quickly wiped them away as if someone was watching. He missed his family.

With images of his mum and sister in his head, Harry fell asleep.

***

"Harry?"

Bang!

"Ow!"

Harry shot up, his eyes wide and alert as he surveyed his room, looking for the source of the noise. He couldn't see six inches in front of his face in the dark. His gaze landed on a petite figure standing in the doorway, rubbing the side of his head with his hands.

"Louis? What are you doing?"

A loud bang sounded from outside and blindingly bright light flashed through the window.

"I-I just..." Louis squeaked from across the room.

Oh. Right. Harry had forgotten that Louis was practically deathly afraid of thunderstorms. Memories flooded Harry's mind of Louis sneaking into his room at night during a storm and cuddling with him under the covers. That made his heart ache for some reason.

"C'mere," Harry slurred tiredly, holding the blankets up for Louis.

Louis stumbled over to his bed and climbed in beside Harry, cautiously remaining an arms length away from him, facing up towards the ceiling. Harry didn't know why Louis wasn't coming closer if he was scared, but he was too tired to wonder about it.

Another streak of bright white shot through the dark evening sky, and Louis jumped at the loud crack of thunder, an almost inaudible, scared cry coming from him. Harry wordlessly hooked his arm around Louis's torso and dragged him effortlessly towards his body, holding him so close that his back was pressing against his chest. He felt Louis relax hesitantly as he wrapped his arms under Louis's armpits and around his waist. Harry gently nosed the crook of Louis's neck, exhausted and breathing in the smell of him. Warm, warm, warm. Safe. He'd keep him safe from whatever fears deluded his mind. Louis sunk back into Harry's body, still shivering in fear. He held Louis close, their bodies fitting together like a puzzle as the storm raged on outside.

"S'alright, Lou," Harry breathed tiredly into his neck. "I've got you."

Another thundering crack boomed from outside, accompanied by a flash of lightning. Louis squirmed backwards into the safety of Harry's warm arms, hiding his face in the mattress to drown out the deafening sounds of the storm. Harry sighed tiredly against Louis's back, closing his eyes and pressing their bodies closer together.

"Relax," he cooed into his neck. "You're safe."

And for once, Louis did feel safe. He felt safer here then he ever had before...here with Harry.