Harry's POV
"I love you too."
Louis looked at me with tears in his eyes. Yeah, I love Louis. I have ever since the X-Factor and knowing he loves me back makes me feel soooo good. But, he doesn't really love you. Shut up Ana. You're a worthless piece of crap and not even God himself is capable of loving you. You're a liar Ana, a big mean liar. Am I Harry? Am I really? I've always been the one that was honest with you. When everyone else said you were too skinny I told you the truth, that you're a fat arse. When everyone said they loved you I was the only honest one; they don't really love you. So, think this through Harry. Who's really the liar; me or Louis? I-I don't know.
"Harry?"
"Huh, what?" I asked.
"What are you thinking?" Louis asked.
"Do you really love me Louis? Or are you just trying to break me further?" I mumbled.
The look on Louis' face made me want to cry. He looked so shocked.
"Haz," he said, "of course I really love you. Why did you even feel the need to ask? Who's making you question me?"
"Ana," I mumbled, "she told me that everyone else is lying and that she's the only one who tells me the truth."
"Harry it's the exact opposite. Ana is lying to you Harry. You aren't fat you're a skeleton and it's damn scary. And it's not true that people don't love you. Everyone who knows you loves you, hell even people who have never met you love you. Especially me. I love you so much Harry and whatever Ana is saying she is a lying bitch!"
"R-really?" I choked.
"Absolutely," Louis smiled, planting a soft kiss to my forehead.
"Thanks Lou," I smiled, "when can I leave?"
"Dr. Denal told me to alert a nurse when you wake up so they can start your discharge paperwork," he said, "you can go home as soon as that's finished."
"Okay," I said, "please go get the nurse. I want out of here!"
Louis laughed, "I'm going. I'm going."
I watched him walk out the door and, I hope, go towards the nurses station. Thoughts began to swirl around my head. What was my treatment plan? How much food was I going to have to eat? How much weight were they going to make me gain? Most importantly, was I even ready for recovery?
Half of me was saying yes. That half wanted recovery. That half was tired of all these horrible symptoms; always being cold, fatigue, dizziness. There was, however, another part of me arguing with that half. That part was Ana. Ana told me these symptoms were proof that I was making progress. She told me recovery was really another way of saying 'getting fatter'. Ana told me if I gave in I would never be perfect. And perfection was something I craved with all my heart.
"Harry Styles?" A nurse, Kathleen, asked.
"Yes ma'am," I smiled.
"I'm here to remove your IV and heart monitor," she said.
"Okay," I mumbled.
I watched her peel the tape off the IV and Louis held my hand as she pulled the needle out. Although, I did wince slightly. She put the needle in the waste box. She then peeled off the little round sticky things that, apparently, connected me to a heart monitor. Once that was done she let me take the oxygen monitor on my finger and handed me my clothes to get dressed. I got up quickly and feel right back onto the bed, everything going black. I didn't pass out completely, though, and I was grateful for that.
"Here," Louis held out his hand, "let me help you up. You're probably still weak from earlier."
I grabbed his hand and mumbled a 'thanks'. I looked at him and then I motioned towards the door.
"Harry," Louis sighed, "it's not like I've never seen you naked before. You used to get undressed all the time."
"I know," I frowned, "but I don't want you seeing how big I am or all the cuts and scars."
"How many times am I going to have to tell you this?" Louis asked, "You are not fat! You're a fucking skeleton. As for your cuts I already know that the doctor said you had lots of them. Now, strip."
I frowned, really not wanting to get undressed in front of Louis. He raised his eyebrows and I groaned in defeat. I slowly pulled the gown over my head.
Louis' POV
Harry slipped the hospital gown over his head and I stepped back in shock. A silent gasp escaped my lips. Harry was so thin. No, thin didn't even begin to cover it. His ribs, hip bones, spine, collarbones, and any other bones were sticking out so sharply I was amazed they hadn't ripped his skin open. I looked at his thighs, stomach, chest, and upper biceps and noted hundreds of scars as well as multiple fresh cuts. I couldn't believe it. Harry, my perfect and beautiful Harry, was hurting himself so badly. His once perfect skin was so scarred I wanted to cry, but he was still so perfect to me.
"Louis could you please pass me my shirts and jumper?" A shaking Harry asked. Poor baby was cold.
"Sure," I said, grabbing his three shirts and jumper.
Harry dressed quickly, or as quickly as he could without fainting, and sat back down on the hospital bed to wait for Kathleen to release him. I sat down next to him and put my hand on his. He looked at me with a smile on his face and kissed my lips softly. I returned the gesture and a moment later, after an amazing kiss, pulled away grinning. Almost as soon as we pulled away Kathleen walked in, followed by Liam, Zayn, and Niall.
"You are free to go Harry," Kathleen smiled.
"Great," Harry smiled, "let's go."
"Not so fast," Kathleen laughed, "I'm going to wheel you down."
Apparently that was the first Harry noticed of the wheelchair. He shook his head furiously, his curls going every which way, and frowned.
"I'm sorry Harry, but that's the rules," she said, "would you rather stay at the hospital."
"That got Harry's attention," I laughed, watching Harry jump up and run to wheelchair.
We walked through the hospital and into the parking lot. I pulled the car up to the curb and all the boys got into the car. We thanked Kathleen and she wished Harry a speedy recovery, yeah right. I pulled out of the hospital parking lot and drove towards our flat. Suddenly something occurred to me, we were in Harry's car and Harry didn't drive here.
"Niall, Liam, Zayn," I asked suspiciously.
"What's up Louis?" Niall asked.
"How exactly did you guys get to the hospital?" I asked.
"Well, I drove," Niall mumbled.
"But you don't have a license," I stated.
"I know," he said, "but it was an emergency."
"Niall you shouldn't have driven here, especially not in Harry's car," I sighed, "how did you even get Harry's keys?"
"We walked to the gym and the lady at the front gave us Harry's keys," Liam explained, "she said he dropped them when he passed out. We just figured it would be an easier way to get to the hospital than the bus."
"Fine," I frowned, "but don't do that again. It's not only illegal, but if you get pulled over you could get in trouble for having Harry's car."
"Sorry," Niall mumbled.
We pulled up to the flats and got out of the car, I made sure Zayn helped Harry get out. We walked up to Harry and I's flat. I opened the door and Anne came out of the kitchen, smiling. The rest of the boys came in and sat on the couch. Harry leaned against the wall for a moment, attempting to catch his breath. I frowned, wondering how he managed to exercise for 4 hours straight when he could barely walk up a few flights of stairs, and watched him sit on the chair near the couch. I sat down next to Harry, it was a big chair, and watched him laugh at something Niall had said. About five minutes later I saw Harry begin to pale and shake as Anne said,
"Boys, dinner is ready."
