sdmn one sh~i~ts

I Got You /kshaw

words: 3300
Warnings: uhm, depression/self harm? ffs do i even need to tell you anymore? ⚠️

Harry was laying in his bed, staring up to the empty, white ceiling. It was currently 2:41 am, no wonder he felt insecure. The late night, early morning hours had always that kind of effect on him. Maybe that's why he refused to be alone whenever he knew he would end up being awake at that hour. Because when the world was quiet, his mind was the loudest.
Those voices were yelling at him, trying to tear him down. Trying to make him see his worthless existence. That's why he hated it, those hours. That's why he would always try to be with someone.

But now he was alone.

Harry was thinking, and thinking, and thinking. And with each thought, five more worries came into his mind. It was endless, an endless night full of worrying. And he was scared. Scared of not being able to sleep at all, scared of having to give up this night.

He couldn't give up, he shouldn't give up, but fuck, he wanted to so badly. Giving up was so damn easy, so much easier than fighting.

Normally Jj, the leader of the group, was the one worrying. If he was good enough, if the others were good enough (which they always were. Jj would never even think there was something wrong with what his friends did), if the songs and videos he was working on were good enough.

He was always worrying, always asking everyone if they were alright, always making sure everything was as good as possible. Jj always thought about their fans, if they were feeling alright, if they were enjoying the things he and the boys were doing for them. Because Jj knew how much their group meant to some people -of coure he did, he was quite active on twitter. For someone this young, Jj really did think about everything a little too much.

Harry knew Jj was awake, too. Because he had spent the afternoon sleeping, being so exhausted by all the thinking and worrying that he just dropped into his bed like a corpse. While he was taking a nap, though could you really call it a nap if it was four hours long, the other boys were doing what they were always doing.

and Harry?

Harry didn't nap. He couldn't. He was deadly tired, extremely exhausted, but he just couldn't sleep or rest at all. He was too busy watching the others, watching Simon fooling around, Josh and Tobi talking about god knows what.

Ethan and Vikk were talking about dieting, Harry didn't like that.

He hated talking about changing his looks.

Harry was confident. At least he pretended to be. He wasn't exactly ugly, but he wasn't really good looking either. Harry was average, and he was okay with that. He really was. There were just some things, a few minor things, that he didn't like about himself.

And the fact that all his confidence was an act was quite obvious, at least to a few people.

Because, if you paid attention to his arms, you would see his worries, his insecurities and his self hatred. You would see the hours he had spent in the bathroom, crying while looking at his reflection in the mirror, while all those voices in his head kept insulting him. You would see the many times Harry had tried to fight, and all the times he had lost and given up.

Those, things on his arms. They weren't a sign for strength, he knew that for sure.

His fans loved him, though. He knew that. He didn't always believe what they were saying to him, but he knew that they weren't lying. Which is probably why he kept trying. Just like tonight, he was trying. Trying to fight once again, and being close to losing the fight once again.