The Boy With The Broken Green Irises. - Zarry/Narry Fan Fiction.

Everyone knew Harry Styles as the 'most popular boy in school.' When you thought about him, you'd think of the 'boy that had it all'.   

But what you'd never think of was that Harry Styles was broken beyond repair. You would never stop and think 'Hey, maybe that boy needs help'. You'd never wonder if he cut himself because it felt like his only escape from reality. You would never think that he would cry himself to sleep at night because he was in a relationship with someone he was slowly falling out of love with.   

But that was the thing about Harry. He didn't want anyone to know. He didn't want anybody's help because he hated sympathy and pity. He despised the whole idea of someone feeling sorry for him. He didn't want anyone to know about his addiction to cutting because he was scared that people would think he was weak. And he didn't want anyone to know that he was slowly falling out of love with the boy he was in a relationship with because he didn't want to hurt the boy he knew was head over heals in love with him.   

So everyday Harry would walk into school and act like everything was alright. He would build a wall that no one was allowed to break. He would smile and answer 'I'm fine' when someone asked him how he was. He would laugh when he just wanted to cry and he would repeat this routine day after day until he got home. Then he would let the tears fall. That was the time when he would bring the razor to his arm and stop himself from screaming out as it sliced through his skin and the blood oozed out. He would sit on the bathroom floor, crying and struggling to breathe as he held a towel to his bloody wrist. Then when he was done, he would ring his boyfriend and hold back tears as he lied and told him that he loved him as much as he did at the beginning and then he would weakly climb into bed and stare emotionless at the ceiling until his eyelids drooped and sleep took over.  

Harry was broken and he desperately needed someone to fix him, but Harry hadn't found anyone who cared enough to even try to fix him yet.  

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"Harry, over here!" Louis, one of Harry's teammates shouts as he runs to the opposite side of the field so he's free to catch the football. Harry, who's almost half way down the field while holding the ball under his arm, swiftly turns around and throws it to his teammate. The players on the opposite team quickly turn and run after Louis who just landed a touchdown, winning the game. Louis jumps up, fist bumping the air.

Harry sighs and shakes his head, wondering why Louis is so happy they won since it was just training, but then again, Louis was always happy. Harry sometimes envied Louis if he was honest because Louis was always happy. He was cheerful and he had a good reputation in the school too.  

Harry took his helmet off and shook his head, a few of his curls fell down over his eyes, but he didn't care. He held his helmet in his hand, wincing as one of the straps ran against his wrist where all his cuts laid. The freshest cut was from last night, and Harry could still feel the pain as the blade sliced across his skin. Harry shuddered. He hated the thought of cutting but it was his only release. He was addicted.   

Harry wanted someone to blame for him being broken sometimes, but he knew it was no ones fault. He built this huge lie about how great his life was three years ago and then it just all came crashing down around him. He had thought about telling someone, but each time his throat would close up and no one words would come out. He gave up trying after about a month.  

Not even Harry's boyfriend noticed the way he was and if Harry was honest, that hurt him. Harry didn't love him the way that he used to, but Harry just craved for him to realise that Harry wasn't okay and care enough to help him. He knew that he should break up with his boyfriend before he completely and utterly fell out of love, but Harry didn't have the strength to break someone's heart.