Saviour (A Larry Stylinson Fic)

Chapter 2: Vodka

Harry was sat slumped on the pavement, his back against the brick of his school, hidden between two dumpsters as he gulped down the contents of a water bottle full of vodka he had managed to sneak from his step-dad’s liquor cabinet. It was something he did nearly everyday. Everyday that he actually bothered to go to class that was, which was becoming more and more frequent since the last call home from his headmaster. His step-dad had come so near to beating him with how angry he was as he yelled at the boy, and his mom made a show of crying loudly just out of sight, wailing about how disappointed she was as his older sister, home on holiday, tried to calm her. It wasn’t that he was afraid of being hit, or yelled at that made him go to school, it was the thought of letting his mother down.

He couldn’t stand to think that she was disappointed in him, there was no one he loved or depended on more than his mother. His sister was maybe a close second, but since she had gone off to uni this past year he rarely ever saw her anymore. She’d all but stopped calling, moving on with her life, as Harry wanted her too.

He had told her this when she left. Holding him tightly in a hug he made her promise not to worry about them anymore and do what she had to do. She made him promise to look after their mother and to try and not be so miserable. To try and move on with his own life and stop depending on the way other people treated him and the things they said to him to mold how he thought and felt about himself.

That was much easier said than done he had discovered, and not much had gotten better since she left. If anything it got worse. There was now one less person to tell him that he wasn’t stupid, and useless, and a total fucking faggot who didn’t even deserve to live. 

Harry coughed at the burn in his throat and held a fist to his mouth, shutting his eyes tight and willing himself to hold it in.

He did.

He paused for a moment looking at the half drunk bottle and breathing heavily before bringing it to his lips again. He threw his head back and took in as much of the liquid as he could stand in one pull. As the alcohol settled he felt a lurch in his stomach and belched loudly, afraid it would all come back up as he did.

It didn’t.

He let his head hang for a moment, his long curly bangs falling in front of his face. He felt a warmth spread from his stomach, up his neck, and land on his cheeks. The alcohol was starting to take its hold. He smiled slightly to himself knowing that in just a few short minutes he would be absolutely hammered and ready to take on a full day of courses. 

"Figured I’d find you here." Harry pulled his head up to see Niall standing over him, his large book bag slung over his shoulder. 

"You’re a bloody genius mate! Sometimes I wonder how you do it." Harry laughed, slurring his words slightly through his sarcasm and letting his head hang again.

"Drinking already?" Niall asked, knowing the answer, obviously. 

"Just a starter." Harry said shaking his curls out of his eyes, "Plenty more where that came from." He pushed his bag toward Niall causing it to tip as two more bottles rolled from it. Niall rolled his eyes and let out a disappointed sigh.

"Do you really think its wise to drink so much?" Niall huffed, letting his bag slide form his shoulder and land on the ground at his feet.

"This coming from an Irish man!" Harry wailed, laughing maniacally.

"At least I don’t have to get loaded at school. I wait for the weekend like normal people." Niall let his legs fold under him, sitting himself in front of the drunken boy. 

"Well, yay for you." Harry twirled a finger in front of the other boy’s face in mock-celebration. "Gold star for Niall!" Harry laughed again, "Here’s to you mate; the golden boy!" He held the bottle out as if doing a toast before gulping down the remaining contents. "And besides," Harry continued, burping again. "I’m not normal. I think that’s been fucking firmly established at this point." Niall just shook his head at the increasing amount of slurring Harry was doing.