Two Different Worlds - Punk Louis x Marcel -

S E V E N T E E N

Please, if you have ideas for this story, tell me. I need all the input I can get. And for any of you going through a rough time, PM me. Thanks for 11,000+ . Can we get 12,000 by Easter? c:

By morning, Gemma had found another mental hospital, this one in London instead of their home in Cheshire.

She called the number, biting her lip, hoping for an answer. Her brother really needed help.

"Hello?" A polite womens voice sounded after a click, signaling the call had started.

"Y-Yes, hi.. Its my brother. I, uh need to admit my brother."

"For?"

"W-Well the first time we admitted him in a hospital, it was because of his terrible self hatred, causing the even worse self harm and he was in there for a really long time and-and they just had a shooting and he keeps acting out after his boyfriend cheated and my mum and I think he just needs a little time in a h-hospital."

"Ah, alright. Name? Of your brother."

"Harry Styles."

"Age?"

"Eighteen."

"Bring him in whenever, Miss."

Gemma said thank you and hung up, sighing as she walked upstairs to wake her mum.

--

The hospital was huge, a few stories high with hardly any windows.

As the family of three began to walk towards it, Harry's mind fell, and stayed, on Louis. His hands clenched into fists and he tried to calm down. His right arm was shaking as he seethed, wishing he could forget Louis.

His mind slipped, causing him to remember throwing his ring at Louis. Biting his lip, he paid no attention to Gemma and Anne signing him in.

He knew he still had feelings for Louis. They had been engaged, for Christ's sakes. Harry sighed, wishing he could call the older boy and work things out.

Arm no longer shaking, his mum and sister hugged him tightly before the nurse carted him off to his room, the number being 3-3-8.

The nurse who brought him left as another one came in. She was pretty, he couldn't deny, but she looked really familiar as those pale blue eyes practically stared into his soul, the black hair with pink dip-dyed ends expressing themselves well.

"H-Hello, Mr. styles, I'm your nurse. My name is Ashe..ley. Ashley," the nurse said with a small smile as she messed with the sleeves of her shirt, that were close to going over her thumb in length.

"I ...I need to call someone."

"Who?"

"My fiancée."

"W-Well you aren't technically allowed to, but here." Ashley handed him her phone and he dialed in Louis's number with shaky fingers.

"Hello?" A voice spoke, hoarse from crying.

"L-Louis?" Harry murmured.

"Harry, y-you're calling from a-an unknown number, w-where are you? Are you s-safe?"

"I'm in a h-hospital in London.. A-And I wanted to say I'm sorry.,"

Louis comforted him, telling him how perfect and nice and sweet he was, making him feel much better.

He was told he didn't need to be sorry, that it was Louis's fault.

But Louis didn't want to get married anymore.

Louis hated Harry.

Louis said he was ugly.

He was fat.

Stupid.

Worthless.

Shut up, Harry said to himself, shutting his eyes tightly as he listened to Louis go on about how much he missed him.

"I'm really sorry, Harry.. I love you."

"I have to go."

"Babe pl-"

Click.

He handed Ashley's phone back to her, mumbling an "I'm going to bed", even though it was hardly two. Ambling to the bed, he kept his head down, flopping down against the comforter, almost instantly falling asleep.

Ashley, or Ashe, watched him sleep, her eyes darkening as she stepped into the mini kitchen area in Harry's room, opening a drawer and rummaging carefully through until she found what she was looking for.

She gripped the handle of a sharp knife tightly, walking over to Harry with a look of such hatred in her eyes, hovering over him.

---

And it ends there. This was mainly just a filler. You're welcome c: