Larry Stylinson Imagines

the "ugh" chapter

So this dark chapter came a lot earlier than I expected. I found it in my photo library because I forgot that I used to send all these to my friend. TW; self harm/mentions of depression. Also, I'm just gonna name their friend Sam because of iCarly and stuff and also because that was honestly the first thing I thought of when I was writing this.

Harry tipped his head back in the bathroom and let the blood dribble slowly from his wrist onto the blade of the knife in his opposite hand. He swirled it around a bit, then tipped it and watched as the drops splattered on the pale tile floor. He was bleeding more than he had in the past, but in all honesty, he didn't really care. All he cared about was the mess Louis was gonna have to clean up when he got home. With a grumble, he mopped up the drops of blood on the floor and sighed when a pale pink tint was left. "Don't wanna... Don't want Lou to know," he mumbled to himself as he stood carefully and reached for the hand towel. He cringed and his head spun a bit as he clutched at the counter. His knees buckled, but he caught himself and grunted. 

He sighed and sunk to his knees, resting his head on the countertop and watched the world spin. Suddenly, he was overcome with a feeling of nausea and laid back a bit, his breath catching in his throat.

Maybe he went too deep. 

"Haz, are you in here?" he heard Louis shout from their bedroom. No, don't, he immediately thought. You can't see me like this. He licked his dry lips and watched the door handle rattle. Louis's voice quickly turned panicked. "Hazza, what's going on? Can you hear me, Harry?" Louis took a step back and looked around their room. He knew there was a key to the bathroom somewhere, he just had to find it. His heart leapt when he found it in Harry's nightstand. 

He practically kicked down the door and the breath was stolen from him when he saw Harry on the floor, his wrists cut and blood on his shirt. "Hazza," he gasped, grabbing for the towel and wrapping it around one of his wrists. He swore. 

"I'm sorry, Lou."

"Don't apologize. Don't you dare apologize, Harry." 

"Okay," he whispered, leaning into Louis's warm touch. 

"C'mon," Louis said softly, gently grabbing him by the shoulder and helping him to their bed. 

"I don't wanna make a mess," Harry said, standing. Immediately, he saw stars and Louis shoved him back to the bed. 

"Please, j-just stay there, Harry. Just for a second, please." He didn't say or do anything to acknowledge what Louis had said, but didn't move. Louis ran from the room to find another towel, his phone open.

*Via Sam's phone*

Louis: are you in LA

Sam: yeah why

Louis: how fast can you be here

we need your help

Sam: Like help moving furniture or help help

Louis: help help

Sam: omw. First aid kit in the passenger seat and a bottle of vodka just in case

Louis: We're gonna use both <3 thank you

"Haz, are you doing okay?" Louis said quietly, his hands shaking. "Sam is coming, she's gonna help us out."

"Sam?"

"Yeah."

Harry's eyes were dilated and he took to long to respond he looked at Louis and leaned back. "Is she gonna tell my mum?"