Smoke || larry

14

Anne is back to ignoring him. If they so much as walk into the same room she turns and leaves. Harry wants to say it hurts, but he's become numb to his mothers neglect. It just doesn't bother him anymore.

It's Thursday - a week from the concert - and Harry is alone. Louis still has school until four on Thursdays and Liam now has basketball starting up. Harry is alone, but he refuses to go home. He'd call Nick, but he's with his boyfriend and he can't call Zayn because they aren't that close yet.

He decides to wander into the park to have alone time. He doesn't like to be alone because his thoughts get the best of him and he usually has an anxiety attack or a craving to drink and forget. Today feels different though. He feels like he needs to be alone today.

He lets his feet carry him through the paths of the park that he's grown to know like the back of his hand. When he was younger he used to come here and pretend to be king of the trees and as he got older he just came here to secretly make out and have sex within the thick mass of trees. You'd think that'd be awkward and uncomfortable, but Harry's always liked having intimate moments in nature. He feels safe when he's lying in a field of flowers or sitting at the top of a tall tree.

The paths are empty except for the birds and chipmunks that watch him with curious eyes. He pulls out his emergency joint and places it between his lips, lighting the end and inhaling the familiar taste. His eyes continue to look at the trees and he looks up at the sky, watching the clouds roll by as the world continues to turn. The world never stops moving, no matter how much you wish it would sometimes.

He keeps sucking in the smoke and letting it sit in his lungs. He always coughs even though his body is starting to get used the the drug. His asthma makes it hard for him, but he can survive especially in the open air.

He stops for a second, the joint hanging from his lips as he looks through his bag. He then comes in contact with the smaller bag and pulls it out. Inside sits his camera that he once would never leave his house without. He stopped taking pictures after she left, feeling no motivation for something he once enjoyed.

He turns it on and goes to see the last picture he took. It's from a party and Gemma and Chris are holding their beers, cheesy, wasted smiles on their faces. Liam and Niall are beside them, both shirtless and having fun. The picture reminds Harry of something he'd find on Tumblr and he rolls his eyes at the thought.

He inhales the smoke again and watches as the end burns. He holds it in for as long as possible and then blows it out. His feet start walking again and now his eyes are looking for something so beautiful it needs to be captured by his lens.

The gravel crunches under his boots and the orange leaves rustle in the wind. He goes out of his way to step on every crunchy leaf and the joint is done and gone. He's not high to the point of silliness, he's at a good level where he knows what he's doing, but he still feels good. Great even.

He decides to snap a picture of a squirrel in a tree, but the picture isn't anything special and he sighs. He used to have so much inspiration and maybe that's because he used to feel on his own. He really can't feel without the help of substance. Without them he feels numb.

He walks further into the park and the area gets darker as the trees get thicker. It's beautiful and mysterious and Harry pulls up his camera to snap a picture of the pathway. It's dark and looming, but the colors give it a happy feeling. It's so conflicting and yet it all makes sense.

His phone vibrates deep in his pocket, but he ignores it and sits down on the gravel path instead. He runs his fingers over the small grey stones and leans his back against one of the trees that border the path. He feels comfortable for once while he's alone. He feels a sudden peace and yet again he can feel Gemma next to him.