Part Seven

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{ Warning - this part contains mentions of eating disorders and self-harm, please do not read if you are easily triggered }

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The next day Harry didn't show up to class, and Louis was worried. Harry had never skipped without Louis, and with what had happened yesterday Louis was left anxiously biting down on his lip, not paying an ounce of attention to the lesson.

By the time the professor released the class, Louis had bitten his lip down to blood, and he was hurrying out of the door. He darted down the halls, racing to Harry's room. He might be over-reacting, but he had a bad feeling in his gut and it was better to be safe than sorry.

When he reached Harry's door, Louis was panting, knocking on the wood frantically. No one answered the door and after a minute of pacing, Louis tried the door handle to find it unlocked. That made Louis even more worried because Harry always locked his door, even if he was home.

Louis closed the door behind him, walking into the room and looking around. Harry's bed was unmade, which meant he was still here. Harry always kept his side tidy if he was going out, just something else he liked to do.

Louis swallowed, hearing the shower running. He walked towards the joint bathroom, knocking on the door. When he got no reply, the feeling in Louis' gut worsened and his stomach churned, his heart pounding even faster.

"Harry?" He called out, knocking on the door again. "I'm coming in, okay? Don't be naked." He warned, before opening the door.

And, well.

There was Harry, laying on the floor of the bathtub, naked apart from a pair of tight boxers. But that wasn't what was made Louis cry out. No. What made Louis nearly crumple to the floor was the blood running from Harry's body - and that body was made of pale skin and bones - to the drain, mixed with the water from the shower.

Harry spun around, his green eyes going huge in surprise and shock and then fear and embarressment. His shaking fingers dropped the razor, his jaw dropping with it, before he let out an anguished cry that had Louis' heart stopping.

After the initial shock, Louis darted forwards, clambering over to Harry and picking the blade up, throwing it somewhere away from the sobbing boy. Louis could barely look at the harsh red marks covering Harry's milky white thighs - some new, some old.

Harry was sobbing, scrambling to get away from Louis. Louis was shaking his head, mumbling small, frantic reasurements at the frightened boy. "Harry, Harry, it's okay. It's me. I'm not going to hurt you, just...Please. Please let me help you." Louis was gasping, soaked from the shower.

Harry let out another wail, warm tears mixing with the cold shower. Louis was crying himself, unsure what to do. Harry huddled on the ground in the corner of the shower, his skinny arms wrapped around his skinny legs, his skinny torso heaving as he tried to control his breathing.

Then Louis was in action again, remembering one time when Harry had been laughing so much he'd needed his inhaler, explaining to Louis that he had athsma. Louis scrambled out of the shower, darting into the other room, finding the inhaler on top of a pile of Harry's neatly folded clothes.

He hurried back, pressing the inhaler to Harry's pale lips, pressing down the button and watching Harry breathe it in. Louis did it again, and turned the shower off as Harry began to breathe properly. As he did, Harry's eyes drifted shut, and Louis was left with a shaking, nearly naked, far-too-thin boy passed out in his arms.

After awhile, Louis stood, laying Harry on the boys bed. He dried him, careful not to touch his self-inflicted wounds, before dressing him carefully in the jersey that Louis had learned was Harry's favourite.

Louis dressed Harry's wounds and bandaged them, before pulling some warm sweatpants on the younger boy. He then pulled the blankets up to Harry's chin, noticing Harry was shivering in his sleep. While he waited for Harry to wake, Louis set about cleaning up the room.

Zayn was no where to be found, but Louis didn't worry about that. Once the place was cleaned up with no trace of what had happened, Louis made Harry a cup of tea and set it down on the bedside table before curling up in a chair and thinking about what had just happened.

One thing he knew, Louis was going to have a long talk with Harry. He was going to try find out what was in Harry's head, and then he was going to help him in any way he needed.

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