Harry Styles was just a sixteen year old boy afraid to leave his bedroom. That's normal, right?
Except it's not. Harry suffers from Schizophrenia. His Mum had been told by doctors, when he was only seven years old, that he was 'sick in the mind'.
Schizophrenia: A of a group of psychotic disorders usually characterized by withdrawal from reality, illogical patterns of thinking, delusions, and hallucinations, and accompanied in varying degrees by other emotional, behavioral, or intellectual disturbances.
Harry Styles had suffered from depression, hallucinated and heard voices all of his life, voices whispering to him that he was not worth the air he breathed, and for years various coloured pills had kept them mostly tamed.
Somehow Harry had managed to nab Louis Tomlinson along the way. Beautiful, excitable, pretty perfect Louis Tomlinson. Louis is the only person who gets him, and he is the only person who Harry feels safe around, because Louis keeps all of the voices away - Louis loves him, and promised Harry that he loved him. Louis swore he would always be there.
So what happens when Harry's rose-tinted glasses get torn away, and all he is left with is the reality that even love can't keep him safe from the voices.
Because Louis, pretty perfect Louis Tomlinson, can't keep his promise.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own anyone in this story, it is purely fiction.
"H-Harry please!" I cried, my hands placed protectively in front of my face. His eyes darkened, and he grabbed my wrists, pinning them against the wall. His breath rolled over my face, the faint scent of alcohol rolling up my nose.
"Shut up." He growled. His short nails dug into my arm and I winced in pain. He released me, and grabbed a handful of my hair instead. I shrieked in pain as he threw me to the ground. Tears pricked my eyes and I squeezed my eyes shut.
"Get up." He said. I opened my eyes, and scrambled to my feet quickly. He grabbed the front of my shirt to pull me closer, leaning down to my level. His eyes burned straight through mine. Chills went down my spine and I bit my bottom lip out of fear.
"How many times do I have to tell you? You. Are. Mine."
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In a complex narrative, where Harry wrestles with the voices of schizophrenia, the story unfolds with uncertainty. The question lingers: Will Harry succumb to the relentless voices, potentially breaking down Louis, or will Louis summon the strength to confront the darkness that threatens him and stand resolute in his own defense?
The outcome rests upon the delicate interplay of their intertwined fates, a story of mental struggles and strength yet to fully reveal itself.