Let Me Show You How to Love Yourself (Larry Stylinson) ✅

Messy

"Are you okay?" Harry asked. He was standing over Louis, who was lying on the couch in his and Niall's apartment, feeling dazed and confused after being punched in the head. Niall was in the process of grabbing him an ice pack, and Harry had just finished shining his iPhone flashlight into his eyes to make sure he could follow the light with his eyes.

Harry was completely oblivious to what was going on -- he had no idea why Louis and Liam had gotten into an altercation, but he was so startled by Louis' injury that he followed Niall inside his flat to help him out. In the process, Liam had packed his bags and left, trudging down the corridor with a suitcase and two duffle bags in tow, struggling with his crutches. He looked like he could have used help, but assuming he was the villain here, Harry left him to his own devices and went to coax his boyfriend.

Too bad he had chosen the wrong person to help.

"Harry, love. I'm fine. I just... we really need to talk," Louis said quietly, sitting up. His head was throbbing, but it wasn't enough to silence his thoughts, which were screaming at him to tell Harry the truth right this instant. To let him know exactly why Liam had punched him.

"It's 2AM," Niall said interrupting, as he handed Louis advil and an ice pack. "Is now really the time for conversation?" Louis smirked at shook his head. "It actually is, Niall. I got this far, didn't I? You truly can't stop me."

Niall sighed and shook his head, his blue eyes flashing over to Harry guiltily before he turned and left the two alone. "Suit yourself," he called over his shoulder. "I tried to stop you."

"Tried to stop him from what?" Harry asked, toying with his bracelet. He bit his lip as he looked at Louis, who looked dark and ominous with his tangled hair and bloodshot eyes. "What's going on?"

Louis sighed deeply, a wave of nauseau overcoming his body. Harry was sitting on the edge of the couch next to him, stroking his arm softly. Louis sat up and pushed Harry's arm away. "I cheated on you," he said deadpan. He closed his eyes for a second, as if to prepare for the impact of his awful words.

When he opened them, he saw Harry sitting there with pursed lips, nodding slowly. "Well. That makes sense. I'm too gross for anyone to love. Should have trusted my gut," he said quietly, getting up to go. Louis shook his head. "Wait! I know it's awful. I know there's nothing I can do to make it up to you. I know I don't deserve your forgiveness. But can I just tell you what happened?"

"I'd rather not know," Harry said, spinning on his heel as he scowled at Louis. His face was flushed and his hands were shaking as he stood there watching the man he thought he loved. Every fiber of his body was screaming for him to run out of the room and purge. Purge everything. Purge even though he hadn't eaten in hours. Even though only blood and bile would come out. Because that's what he deserved for thinking anyone -- especially someone like Louis -- would ever fucking love him.

"It was Zayn!" Louis cried out, holding onto the couch for balance as he tried to stand up. The room was spinning, but he didn't care. He tried to walk closer to Harry, his legs unsteady beneath him. "WHAT THE FUCK?" Harry shouted. "Is that why Liam moved out? Are you fucking kidding me? You selfish prick. They're my best friends. You ruined my fucking FAMILY."

"No. That's not it. Liam dumped Zayn. He didn't know about the cheating. I just told him now, which is why he punched me," Louis insisted. He reached a shaky hand out to grab Harry's hand, but Harry ripped his arm away, and turned his back to Louis. "Don't go near me," he growled, repulsed by the touch of his cold, rough skin. It was the skin of a liar, the skin of a traitor.

"You know what fucks me up the most. That you hurt Liam. And you probably hurt Zayn too, you sick fuck. You can hurt me. Hurt me all you fucking want. But do not hurt my best friends, my brothers. I hurt them enough already with my god damn eating disorder. They don't need more pain," Harry spat, practically sobbing. His shoulders bobbed up and down as he cried, salty, wet tears burning his cheeks.