A cry for help (Larry Stylinson)

Chapter 2

My head rested against a soft pillow while rain gently hit against my window pane. I kept my eyes closed and tried visualizing the weather outside. It’s been raining for 3 days…non stop.

My arms were wrapped around myself, trapping most of the heat in the two blankets lying on top of me. This spacious king sized bed only ever fitting me. My tiny body only took up, it seemed, five percent, of this enormous platform. Running my fingers through my feathery brown hair, I flipped my legs over the side of the bed and gently rubbed the temples of my head. Waking up with a migraine wasn’t unusual. Pretty much the start of every day.

I stood up, shaking, and headed to the door. I felt dizzy, probably from last night. Had way too many beers to drown the pain out.

Last night.

It all came back in a blur and I lost my balance and collapsed on the floor. I put my hand up to my head and back tracked to when Harry told me he didn’t love me anymore.

He gave up.

The pain I felt was indescribable. Words can’t explain the feeling of my world being demolished. Everything I fought for, for him, for us. It’s just gone. I guess I just wasn’t worth enough to him.

After standing back up I walked into the hallway. As I walked through the hallway, I passed the running shower. The deep, raspy, voice that I came to know and love, doesn’t sing in the shower like he used to. I loved waking up to the wonderful tone of his, and being able to lie against the door, and sing along with him. Our voices were like a melody and harmony, blended perfectly together. We made music. Now all we are is copies of what the world wants us to be.

I sighed loudly and walked over to the coffee maker. I made my coffee and sat down at the kitchen table. Taking my phone from the counter, I logged onto twitter. With using just one hand, I scrolled through my mentions. Just more people with their copy and paste, “please follow me.” I liked responding to people who cared about my day, and cared about me. Those are the fans I love. Not that I don’t love the others, but it’s nice to know that some people are actually considerate about how I’m doing.

One tweet caught my eye.

“Louis is sick and tired of all this Larry bullsh!t! Just stop writing this stuff to him! It hurts him you know. You‘re breaking the band up. Just give it a rest! He loves Eleanor!”

I rolled my eyes and skipped past the tweet. People who think they know what I’m going through really get on my nerves. Some people will really believe everything the tabloids say.

Just as I was about to stand up and walk over to my bedroom, the shower water stopped running. I don’t know why my heart skipped like it did, but every time Harry enters the room, I get nervous.

I carried on with my morning routine and tried to look casual. After dumping the rest of my coffee, I took a seat on the couch and flipped on the sports channel. Luckily football was on, so I got comfortable and tried to get my mind off of Harry.

I opened up twitter again and got ready to send out a tweet.

“Love being up early to watch some football! How’s everyone today? xx”

Just seconds after my tweet sent, so did favorites and replies. I smiled at how dedicated my fans are and put my phone down.

“Mind turning the volume down,” a voice said from behind me.

I turned around and saw Harry standing there in a t-shirt and jeans, with his wet hair pulled back in a headband. I held back a smile and the urge to hug and kiss him good morning.