*WARNING* Drug use and nonconsensual sex When Harry gets home, after he's dragged his sore body up the stairs, he lays on the tile floor under the scalding hot water in the shower, fully clothed, until it runs freezing cold over him. He tries to cry, to do something to make his body feel normal, but he can't. It's like his soul was torn from his body and left on that floor. He scratches at his skin and scrubs the parts of his body that aren't covered in clothes trying to clean himself of the night. It doesn't work. When he looks at himself in the mirror, his tongue is still blue from the pills, his skin is red, bruised, and cut from his nails, and there's still bright red lipstick stuck to his skin like a tattoo.

Harry has a terrible anxiety and Louis solitudes his fears in the pleasant art of ASMR [ASMR, for those of you who don't know, is a tingly reaction you feel from various sounds and movements meant to relieve you from anxiety and help you sleep. Google it for more information] -- Credit to: little_aesthetic_weirdo on instagram for the Harry edit, I only did the text --

Harry Styles got cancer and Louis began to die with him. "I will see you again, in another life Louis, I will find you again. I know I will" Harry cancer fic