FUMES. (Larry Stylinson)

Four

Harry was out of town since a week. The cold breeze of September blew, making his dark curls ruffle, and his cheeks pink.

The trees were bare, crunchy orange leaves on the ground.

He walked around, thinking.

She hadn't stopped crying since yesterday, and his face was blank, his mind and body numb. Blood dripped from his skull, but he felt no pain.

Anne sat beside him, sobbing. He felt helpless and had the urge to torture himself.

"We're trying our best, but we don't think he'll make it. Too much of blood loss, and decreasing heart pace." He heard someone say.

But his mind wasn't here, it was somewhere between the overtaking panic and blaring noises and blinding lights, the feeling of falling endlessly, a pit in his stomach, and pain shooting across his skull.

The classic Iphone ringtone woke him from his thoughts.

Harry's POV:

I reached for my phone, and saw Zayn's name flash on the screen. This dipshit never leaves me alone.

"What is it?" I asked.

"Is everything okay? You were supposed to come back today." he sounded ridiculously concerned.

I sighed. "I didn't feel like coming back, so I didn't." "I'm okay" I added.

"When are you returning?"

"I don't know. Maybe tomorrow."

"You need to attend college."

"Yeah I know, I'll be back soon okay? Take care of mum. Bye." I hung up.

I need to give myself a break. I thought. But then why is this break bringing back all of those memories? The one's I want to leave behind? Is there no escape from this? I clutched my hair, groaning. I needed weed, or some liquor.

I got into my car, and drove straight home. After calling up an old friend for the supplies, I munched some junk with whisky.

How would this year be? Same old shit but a different day-ish? I hope not. I was honestly tired. No spark in my life. I felt emotionless, numb.

I smoked three, to the point where I couldn't see properly. Memories came flooding in, I felt tears prickle my eyes. This was supposed to make me feel happy, but well fuck, now I know I have no escape. Because you don't deserve it. My drunk brain added.
_

I woke up with a light head, my vision still blur. I fell asleep on the couch, drooling. It was 4:28 am, and I realized I had slept for more than 10 hours.

4 missed calls from mum. Why can't they leave me alone?

Because they are not sure that you will not do something to yourself. My sub-conscience answered.

"I'm not suicidal." I wispered.

Why though? Whom was I assuring? Them or myself?

I pushed the thoughts down and washed my face. My eyes were puffy, but I felt better. I had had enough sleep, and I just wanted to drive.

I packed my bag, locked the door, and started the car.

I rolled the windows down, feeling the cold wind cut my skin. The night was black, lit by the moon, hung high. The silence was louder than my disturbing thoughts, and I liked it. The wind gushed in my ears, and my curls enjoyed the air running through them. A soft melody escaped my lips, and I hummed to myself. The road was empty, and I wished to be free like this, everytime. I wished to be free from the thoughts in my head, from the people around me. I wanted to go away, to some randomass village and start over, without anyone, changing my name, and my past. But none of this was possible, especially not my past and the memories. Bad, horrible memories.

I wanted to punch someone, but more than anyone I wanted to punch myself, knocking me out and making me bleed. It's happening again. I thought and tried to shut my mind. But if only it was this easy.

I pulled over and the tires made that screeching noise. That's when I lost. I ran out, throwing up on the side of the road. I punched the car, and felt my knuckles bleed.

I could hear a car, but I wasn't expecting it to stop. I didn't turn back, instead focused on slowing my breathing.

"You alright?" A high-pitched voice asked.

I had the urge to turn around and see the owner of this angelic voice, but I didn't.

"I'm okay," I said, choking on my words. "You can leave."

Being nice just wasn't my thing.

"Whatever, take care." He drove off.

I heard him go, the sound of his car, till it was a faint rumble, far away.

_

Woooo idk. This was short. I know.

Okay so I kinda feel more comfortable in writing from louis' point of view, than I feel in writing from Harry's??? but well I have to write it both ways. Just that uk, I'm lost for words when I write harry.

I'll update soon, promise.

Ps- Elounor needs to end asap, I've had enough.

Adwayi x