Uni (A Larry Stylinson Story) ✅

Contemplation

Harry's Point of View 

After class this afternoon, I decided to take a walk by the park near my dorm. As much as I wanted to return home to Niall, I felt like I needed to be alone to process what had just happened last night. Besides, it was Friday, and I planned on talking to Niall about it over a drink later. 

I walked up the street to where the park began, and looked at all the people walking around, mostly tourists stopping constantly to take tacky photos or look at Google Maps to figure out where they hell they were. 

To be honest, that was me half the time, but since I went to school here now, I didn't consider myself a tourist anymore--despite my serious lack of direction and inability to use the subway properly. The Tube was just so much easier to use; it covered the whole city and had tons of helpful workers. Here in New York, there were countless parts of the city that didn't have subway access, and there were never any workers to offer help with directions. 

Sighing over my shitty directional skills, I sat down on a bench across from the Washington Square Arch. It was only September, but I could tell it was going to get cold soon based on the cool breeze that was nipping at my shoulders. 

I sat there, trying to clear my mind, and just think about nothing, but of course I couldn't. I had to face the facts, deal with the problems at hand. 

Louis was sick and hurting badly--and I didn't know what to do. I had helped him the very best I could today, walking him from class to class, making sure he got there alright. Then, after his last class, instead of getting lunch like I usually do, I walked him to the campus Health Clinic so they could check him out. He said he'd text me when he got the verdict. 

I'm sure Louis would be fine physically within a week or two, but that didn't mean much if he was struggling as badly as I thought he was. Though I had never really had any serious mental health struggles of my own, my sister had struggled severely with anorexia for years when she was in college. 

It had been taxing on the whole family, especially because we didn't know how to help her. But then we started taking to her to a treatment center, and the therapist helped educate us about the illness and how we could do small things to help her. I knew that patience was key in helping people with mental illness, and that you couldn't magically expect them get better overnight, no matter how hard you tried to help.

I also knew that there was usually an underlying issue that was the true cause of their physical symptoms. If Louis was hurting himself, it wasn't because he wanted to--it was because he was dealing with something mentally that made him feel out of control or ashamed of himself. The self-harm was just his way of coping with these deeper issues, just like starving had been Gemma's coping mechanism.

I felt a warm tear stream down my eye as I thought back to Gemma and how sick she was. I didn't want Louis to become that way, to hurt himself more. He was so beautiful, so talented, so amazing. I just wished he could see himself from my eyes. And I wished I could help him. 

I thought about knocking on his door tonight to see if he wanted to come for a drink with Niall and I, but I knew he would probably say no. He wasn't so friendly to me at the health clinic. In fact, he pretty much had a melt down in the waiting room.

"God damn it, Harry!" he shouted, after I helped him check in. "I appreciate that you want to help me. I really do. But I'm not a god damn child. I'm 21 god damn years old and I can check myself into the doctor by my god damn self!!! Okay?" 

Wounded, I took a step back, nodding slowly. Louis, nearly collapsing, took a seat next to me. "You should go," he said, quietly. "I'm sure you have things to do. Like jerk off in your room like all the other freshers." I laughed at the joke, but then raised an eyebrow at him as if to ask 'are you sure?' 

"Please go, Harry," he said softly. "I'll text you as soon as I'm done seeing the doctor. I promise. I just need some time alone. And I don't want you worrying about my personal shit anymore. I'm far too much of a hot mess for anyone to deal with." 

I nodded, agreeing that it would be good for him to have some alone time. "Feel better, Louis. And let me know if you need anything." He looked up at me with those big blue eyes, and I just wanted to kiss him right there in front of everyone. But I knew I had to leave, so I turned away. "Bye Louis," I said. He didn't say goodbye back. 

Speaking of the devil, my phone started to vibrate against the park bench and I opened it quickly to find a new text from Louis. "I tore a muscle in my right leg... explains the limp. And my back is bruised from hitting the pavement--apparently I fell backwards. No concussion though," the text read. "That's great, Louis. How long's recovery time?" I typed back. "Two weeks on crutches for the leg and I'll need pain meds for three weeks for my back. Lucky me." I smiled to myself, happy that he was okay--at least physically. 

"And Louis... Did they do bloodwork? Is everything okay with that?" I kind of regretted sending that last question--it seemed a bit too personal. But bloodwork was key for people with eating disorders, as it could show the nutrients they were lacking. "Electrolytes were a bit low," he responded. "Haven't been hungry lately, probably because of this bloody disgusting dorm food. But I have to eat and drink more, apparently." 

I nodded to myself. Okay, I thought, taking a mental note. I should keep an eye on that.... 

Feeling excited that Louis had opened up a bit about his eating, I decided to be bold and ask him for a drink. "Okay, well please do that, Lou. Niall and I want you well!" I typed. "Down to join us for a drink tonight? I have a bartender set in my room. We can whip it up here in the dorm so you don't need to walk." 

Louis didn't answer right away like he had before. Suddenly, I felt stupid for even asking. There was no way he would want to do anything with us. Plus, my message had sounded so creepy, like I was trying to get him drunk or something. 

A stared at the pedestrians for a few more minutes, and then decided to walk back to my dorm. My face was red with embarrassment, but I didn't care. Who cares what these New Yorkers think of me anyways? I'm just a silly kid with a British accent, according to them. 

As I got halfway home, my phone flashed. I half expected it to be Niall, wondering where I was. But it was Louis. "Dorm drinking? What are you 18?" he responded, sarcastically, poking fun at my age. "But sure, I'm down." 

"Sweet!" I typed back, a bit too quickly. "10pm. See you then." 

I walked home, beaming. I saw a tourist taking a photo of her friend jumping in front of the Washington arch and decided to photobomb it, jumping into the background with a giant grin on my face. 

Then I sprinted home, my plaid shirt flapping in the wind. 

Author's Note: Hiiiiiiiii readers! Thanks for making it this far. Sorry the chapters have started to get super long, I'll try to make them a little shorter moving forward. What do you think of Harry and Louis' relationship so far? Is the drink going to go well? What do you want to happen? ALSO I ADDED PICTURES FOR ALL THE CHAPTERS SO CHECK THAT OUT IF U WANNA. Thanks!!