Strawberries and Cigarettes

CHAPTER ONE: REMEMBER WHEN WE FIRST MET?

heyy,
thank u for reading ! i basically do writing for fun at the minute, and this idea came to me because strawberries and cigarettes by troye sivan has always reminded me of louis, so this whole story is basically based on this song, if you listen to the song you'll see how this story links to it as you go on :)

i don't know if anyone is actually going to read this fic or if i'll end up finishing it, but at the minute I'm quite excited about this idea to be honest and i'm attached to the characters already so if anyone loves them as much as I do i'll probably carry on writing it.

i'm really scared about posting this so sorry if it's crap, it's a bit short because of how the chapters are gonna work but i hope people like it anyway 😽

this is dedicated to molly because you're probably the only person who's reading this right now lolll and the song always reminds me of you as well, love you smelly x {btw pls don't judge the cover it's better than the one i had before}

anyway, whoever is reading this thank you for reading, it means a lot :)

if there's any mistakes ignore me hahah x

"Harry Styles?"

His leg was shaking on the cold leather chair, his sweaty palm resting on his knee.

"Harry." The voice repeated, sternly, and he managed to move his nervous eyes up to the stranger in front of him. 

"The doctors ready for you now"

The nerves swept over him and he looked up at his mum. He always felt like a baby for relying on his mum so much, but he wasn't strong enough to face these stupid appointments on his own. 

"Come on," she smiles at him reassuringly, "Let's go, I'm right with you." She took his hand from his knee into hers.

Harry took a shaky breath. It's just another appointment, you have done them so many times before, its not a big deal.  But no matter what he told himself his knees still shook as he walked towards the doctor's room.

The room smelt like old dust, like an old charity shop Harrys nan would take him shopping at, trying on itchy shirts that he would never wear in a million years. Harrys doctor was a strict looking man, his grumpy attitude, burgundy suit and the glasses laying on the end of his nose didn't make it seem like he was "happy to help" like it said on the door as they walked in. It just seemed like he wanted Harry to leave as soon as possible so he could get paid. And although that slightly annoyed Harry that this doctor couldn't give a flying fuck about his health or him getting better, he wanted to leave as soon as possible too.

As Harry and Anne walked in, the doctor nods at them to sit down, clicking away at his keyboard whilst chewing on a sandwich. Harry slouched on the itchy chair, his brown curls hanging down his forehead, looking down at the floor as he played with the sleeves of his purple knitted jumper. Anne sat closely to her son, her handbag on her lap, looking at the doctor as she waits for him to speak.

A few minutes go by, and the doctor finishes the last few clicks of his work, clears his throat and moves to face Anne and the timid boy in front of him.

"Harry" he sighed, "How can I help?"

Harry had to stop himself from rolling his eyes or just simply walking out this heated room. He knew exactly why Harry was here, it was the same reason why he has been coming here these past few years and nothings changed. Nothing can make him better. He just went for his mum because he knew that it could at least help her sleep at night.

Harry stayed silent and continued to stare at the floor. Anne looked Harry in the face and decided to step in, as she always did.

"It's getting so much worse," she turned back to the doctor, "we had to have him pull out of college, his Saturday job because he can't handle it. It's getting too much for him."