HARRY’S P.O.V.
“Here, this will help.”
Ed hands me a glass of scotch and places a bottled water on my nightstand. I sit up and my
shaky hand raises the glass to my lips, pouring the burning liquid down my throat. My eyes shut and I get chills from the taste. I chug the rest and lay back, my head spinning even more.
“H-h-how does this help?”
I’m still shaking and sweating, my disoriented feeling getting worse every minute. Ed has been here for 30 minutes and I’ve managed to get out the gist of all the shit I pulled. He isn’t even close to Louis and he’s disappointed in me. He’s trying to help me out, but I can tell he’s in disbelief. I just need to make it through withdrawal and then I can focus on patching up my life. I don’t even know where I’ll begin, but I can’t think straight right now. I have finally stopped vomiting, but it hasn’t gotten much better.
“Harry, just try to sleep. Let that sink in and just doze off.”
I nod my head and close my eyes. Within a few seconds I feel the liquor settle in my empty
stomach and I instantly feel drowsy.
The room is black; I can’t see anything and my mind is all fuzzy. Louis is laying on the bed, face down and I am forcefully thrusting in and out showing no mercy.
“Harry, please.”
I have no control over my body, not even enough to stop myself from hurting Louis.
“Harry, STOP!”
His cries seem to mean nothing to me, but deep down I can’t take it. I want to stop.
“You’re hurting me!”
I moan loudly and finish, thrusting roughly and un-lovingly. I’m being completely selfish and it’s killing me. I’m a complete monster. Just as I lay down, Louis starts to sob.
“Louis, don’t cry! Please.”
The look he gives me; It will haunt me forever. I keep seeing him sobbing and it doesn’t stop. He doesn’t say anything. He just cries, but I can’t move. I feel like an insensitive asshole, but I don’t feel worthy to hold him in my arms; to comfort him. I don’t feel worthy of looking at him.
“HARRY! Wake up!”
I feel hands grasping my shoulders, shaking me violently. I open my eyes and see Eleanor standing over me.
“You were having a nightmare. You wouldn’t stop screaming. Are you okay?”
I roll over, noticing how much I had sweat during my nap. I bury my face in my pillow and cry. I can’t see anything but the sadness and terror on Louis’ face. Eleanor pats me on the shoulder and sits on the end of the bed. When did she even get here? I eventually roll over and sit up slightly. I feel better than I did before, but the new realization of everything I had done, makes it all pointless. At least before my nap, I could only think about the physical discomfort I was feeling. Thinking about the physical and emotional pain I put on Louis makes me want to die.
“El, why are you here? How long did I sleep?”
“Well, Ed said you were sleeping for like thee hours when I showed up and that was about four hours ago.”
“I slept all day? What time is it?”
“Eight in the evening. Do you feel any better?”
“Maybe physically, but I feel like such a piece of shit.”
