Better Off Dead // Larry AU ✔️

its not that hard

May 3rd, 2015.

The sun was shinning through Louis' shades, causing the younger boy to stretch out his aching bones and rub the sleep from his eyes.

He got up with a yawn, reaching his hands out to the sky. He heard the satisfying pop of his joints and let out a breath, throwing his legs over the side of the bed so he could toe around for his slippers.

Once they were secure around his feet, Louis stood up and walked to his dresser, picking out a fresh pair of underwear as well as a clean t-shirt, a black Adidas jacket one of his sisters sent him, and a pair of grey joggers.

He grabbed his bag of toiletries and made his way down the hall to the showers, smiling at a few nurses and patients along the way. After he entered, he set his bag down in one of the empty showers and proceeded to get in and close the curtain before stripping off his old sweater and black sweats.

After turning the water on, Louis took a moment to poke around his body. His stomach was beginning to lose its concave feeling and was starting to fill out. With a shaky breath, he whispered to himself in reassurance that this was a good thing. Everything that was happening is a good thing.

Louis was constantly reminding himself that his body needed food. It needed fuel and nutrients to keep him going and to keep his organs from failing. The thought of his heart failing before his twenty-fifth birthday made his throat go dry.

His thighs were rounder, almost touching each other. His boney wrists were gaining a little bit of fat to them as well. His doctor told him that once he reached his target weight he would be strong enough to start working out - but only to help gain muscle. He would have one of the physicians with him to help him formulate a plan that would work best for gaining muscle and sustaining a healthy weight.

The thought made him happy. He was looking forward to getting muscle and being strong. When he first arrived here it was hard for him to even walk down the hall, his body ached so bad. He had no muscle to even hold himself up. Now, he was able to race Niall down the halls and only feel a little lightheaded after.

Being able to work out and possibly even play footie again was like music to Louis' ears. He smiled at the thought as he grabbed his vanilla shampoo.

Another part of him, however, was still yelling at him. That part of his brain are remains of Stan's abuse - and God, they sounded just like him.

The more fat he put on the more that voice would be upset. With every bite of food he took that voice screamed. Every compliment he received was twisted within an instant by that voice.

To that voice, he was worthless. Letting himself fall victim to the hospitals ways made Louis weak. Letting the hospital change him like; when he was so close to perfection. Gaining this fat meant he was going to get pudgy again. Gaining muscle meant he would be getting even pudgier.

All the while the number on the scale went up, up, up. All those years of hard, hard work were being flushed down the toilet - the exact place were Louis' food should end up immediately after he eats it.

This voice was starting to fade - as it should after nearly two years here - but there were times when it would be especially cruel towards the boy. Louis tried to hide it, he tried to be the strong one out of his friends, so everyone else had a shoulder to lean on but it was getting so hard.

He needed someone to step in and help him. That's why he was so grateful for Harry. That boy took a weight off Louis' shoulders that otherwise would have remained for the rest of time. Every time the food was becoming too much or Louis was doubting that he could even eat at all that day, Harry would step in and assure him that everything would be okay.

With Harry's help, Louis was gaining confidence in himself again. But the best part of that was he wasn't relying solely on Harry to help him - he was learning about his own body and how he should treat it. Harry was just there to help him a little along the way.

His head was filled with thoughts of Harry as he turned the water off and wrapped a towel around his body. Once he tried off and shook his hair dry, he slipped on his clothes and opened the shower curtain, stepping out first before he grabbed his bag and dirty clothes.

The walk back to his room was similar to the walk there. Once he entered his room, Louis put his bag down, disposed of his dirty laundry in his small basket in the corner, and sat down at his desk. He pulled out a small sketchbook and one of his graphite pencils and began to sketch.

The great thing about this hospital, Louis noted, was that they were so eager to help their patients. When Louis first got here, he had mentioned to one of his doctors that art was a hobby of his that helped him sort his thoughts out. The next week, that same doctor had a new sketchbook, a pack of graphite pencils, and a pack of coloured pencils waiting for the boy.

Louis had filled up three sketchbooks so far in his stay. He was nearing the end of his fourth, as well. His art wasn't something he was to focused on, it wasn't something that he was planning to make a career out of, though he had been told by multiple people that he was really good at it.

No, sir. Louis had plans to become a therapist. He always had a knack for helping people, and he never liked to see anyone sad. The role of therapist seemed to be made for Louis, because this way he was able to help people get better simply by listening to them and working out their problems with them.

After he leaves the hospital he wants to attend a school in London that specialises in psychology and that sort of thing. He hopes to have his own practice as well, being a successful therapist (or psychiatrist– he hasn't quiet decided yet).

Sometimes it makes Louis laugh that he wants to understand mental disorders and the human brain in order to help people suffering from these disorders and diseases, yet he can't seem to help himself as much. Every book he's read about eating disorders gives him great tips and information on how these disorders manifest themselves in vulnerable people and destroy them from the inside out – yet Louis can't apply those tips or knowledge to himself.

However, that might be the reason Louis want's to help people. Suffering from the disease or disorder first hand gives you a better insight into how to help other people. Someone who has never battled an eating disorder might now truly understand how to help a person suffering, so the information they give or coping mechanisms they offer may not be accurate.

Louis bit his lip, looking down at the messy sketch in front of him. After realising that he drew Harry's long hair across his shoulders, Louis decides to take a nap. He didn't have anything planned that day and he knew Harry still needed some time to cope with his recent loss, and he knew that Harry would come find him if he needed him.

..

1299 words.
Written: 12/25/16
updated 03/24/2021
really short filler chapter.

thought this might be necessary in having a better understanding of louis' character in this story. didn't really add too much about louis in this story before so i'm gonna be adding new chapters about him and adding detail to existing chapters regarding him.

happy christmas everyone ! xx