Come What May [Larry Stylinson]

Chapter Six - Burns

- Harry's POV. -

I didn't like being so cold to Louis like that. But I thought it was necessary in my case - I had to keep up my four walls of protection. Not even Louis could crash them down when I tried so hard to build them up. If he found out one secret, that would lead to another and then another as well. I came to the conclusion that I had way to mant secrets to myself, but secrets are meant to be kep secret and to yourself, right? Anyone who had been in the same position as me would probably do the same thing.

I ran up the stairs to bedroom the fastest I ever had, I don't know if it was the nervousness, the urge, or even the slight fury that was burning through me, but I had slammed my bedroom door and locked it within a matter of seconds. I fell back onto my bed with a thump, my hands raking over my face to stop me from doing what I wanted so badly to do. But even if I did give in and decide to do it, I don't think I actually had the energy too. I was utterly exhausted, and terribly afraid to sleep. I know it was stupid, but I was honestly scared about the fact that I wanted to open up to someone - anyone really.

No, I didn't necessarily want a shrink - I don't want a creepy little therapist snooping in my business - but I also knew I could tell the boys either. Secrets between the 5 of us spread like fucking wildfire. If I told one I might as well tell the others too, since they would find out eventually. And I couldn't let that happen; I couldn't let them be disgusted with me.

But no one will find out about your secrets, my mind cooed to me in a soothing manner. Just go, Harry, go to your relief.

Removing my hands from my face, I glanced over at my alarm clock that read in thick green letters 8:46. I then realized that we all had a day off today and jumped up from my bed and went flat on my stomach on my floor. Reaching under my bed, I dragged my hand around it until I found the big and empty cardboard box and pulled it out to lay down right next to me. Then I stuck my hand under again and lifted up the broken floorboard piece, my cheek pressed up against the cold woodrn flooring until I felt the familiar cloth in my hands and I felt slightly more relaxed, knowing I was soon going to forget just for a while.

I yanked the cloth to my side of the bed and clutched it to my chest. With shaking hands I got onto my feet and stuffed the cloth - with my materials safely tucked inside - into my sweatshirt pocket. I quietly opened my bedroom door and took one step out to make sure no one would see me. I listened closely to the soft voices floating from downstairs.

"Yeah, I'll probably be over sometime later," I heard Louis' voice say and I could already imagine him running his fingers through his fringe. I could already bet who was on the other line with him. "I just need to...take care of some stuff...love you lots, bye love."

Anger and hurt churned inside my stomach. Even after the big commotion downstairs, Louis still cared more about Eleanor than me. Just like they had said. But that was expected. Eleanor was Louis' girlfriend and me? I was just Harry.

Just Harry-fucking-worthless- Styles.

And yet another strike to the things wrong with me.

My mind went numb as I quietly shut and locked the door to the washroom. I reached my hand inside my sweatshirt pocket and grabbed onto the cloth, carefully unwrapping it from its folded manner until my four materials spilled out and clattered onto the counter top.

A six inch knife, a razor blade, scissors, and a small red lighter.

I decided to go with my lighter, since I hadn't used it in a while and it brought a curdling pain that a razor could never inflict.

With my sleees rolled up and my bracelets and bandages taken off, I stared straight ahead at my reflection in the mirror directly across from me. I didn't see the Harry Styles that everyone saw, instead I saw what was layered underneath the crust. Sadness. Anger. Guilt. Disgust. Worthlessness. Numbness.