Disassociation• Larry stylinson

One

Harry freaked out when he saw himself in the mirror. Not because he thought he was ugly or anything, he knew he was conveniently attractive, not a model or anything but easy on the eyes. No, but he was freaked out because he didn't recognize the person in the mirror.

Not like one of those instances in movies where the main character messes up and has a deep rooted fight with them self only to realize they changed.

More like he genuinely doesn't realize his reflection is his reflection.

He had realized this one morning when he was brushing his teeth, as he spit the toothpaste and saliva mixture down the drain of his sink, and looked up to smile, he jumped back.

He was frightened by his own reflection, mistaking it for a stranger.

Weird he simply thought, until it started happening more and more. Each time getting worse and worse, until he couldn't even look in the mirror to fix his hair. Not even briefly.

So, his friends tease him about his scruffy appearance. Niall usually running his hands in patterns through his curly hair, and getting it to a presentable state.

They made it their thing, but never outwardly said it was their thing. Sometimes nail would do it at Harry's locker, or the lunch table, or the bathroom.

Liam would help straighten Harry's shirt, and zayn would remind Harry if his zipper was up or not.

They all helped out after the considerable amount of teasing, but never really knew why Harry always needed help.

They thought maybe he was depressed, or was losing motivation.

Harry didn't tell anyone. He didn't want sympathy, and honestly he thought they wouldn't understand. That was his fear, that he'd tell his beloved friends his deepest darkest secret and that they wouldn't understand.

Because in Harry's mind, if they don't understand, then you truly are crazy.

When you tell people you lost motivation they nod, and tell you it's going to be okay. That they've lost motivation at something before and they know how it feels.

When you tell people you're depressed they hug you, and tell you that they are one phone call away if you need them.

You tell them you're anxious? They remind you they are always there to help you.

You tell them you don't know who you are? Harry didn't even want to imagine what they'd do.

So he doesn't. He keeps it to himself, hoping to god no one notices, and trying his best to keep a relatively straight face.

Currently, he was walking to the lunch table, tray in hands and looking up at his friends.

He sat down, and Niall immediately went at his hair, Harry slumped down in order to help him.

"Aw, c'mon now Harry, you look like you've been in a storm." Liam spoke, through his ham sandwich.

Harry grimaced.

"Eh, more like he's been rolling around in his backyard." Zayn spoke, giving him a thumb up , meaning his fly is in fact up.

Harry smiled shaking his head.

Once Niall was done fixing his hair, Liam got up and rolled the sleeves of his slightly baggy t-shirt up, and straightened out the wrinkles.

"Thanks boys." Harry spoke to them , looking around the table to give them a nod, meeting a new face in the process.

There was a boy, sat between Zayn and Niall , with one brow perked up, probably at the primping that just occurred. Harry hadn't even noticed his presence.

He did that a lot. Not knowing when someone was talking to him and not processing what people were saying for an embarrassing amount of time.

But never not knowing if someone was there. Harry mentally wrote that down in his head. Something to research later.

"Hello?" Harry spoke to the boy, who gave him and "oi." In response.

"Oh, shit, right. I've made a fool of myself, Harry, this is Louis, he's one of my best mates." Niall said, gesturing the boy, Louis, to Harry.

Harry was confused as to why he was introducing him to only Harry. Did the other boys know him?

Harry nodded.
"Sup'." Harry spoke, and immediately cringed, making Louis, snort a laugh.

Harry smiled, then looked back to Niall.

"So... how do you guys know Louis." He said, taking a bite of his Alfredo on his plate.

"Oh, we play a bit of footie together on the school team, we became friends around a month ago on an away game." Niall said.

Shit, the game Harry was invited too but was too busy having a crisis over his own existence to attend.

"And we know him because we went." Liam said, smiling.

Ouch.

Harry gave a weak smile, nodded, and continued to eat.

The boys fell into banter, talking about footie, about video games, parties and girls.

Harry was falling into a hole. He realized after running his fingers over the rough material of his jeans, that he couldn't feel it. Actually, he couldn't feel his hand, he looked down at it and didn't even recognize it as his own.

He freaked out.

What do I do? Do I scream? No, I can't draw attention to myself I'm at school. What do I do ? Fuck!

He tried to subtly rub his fingers together, in hopes he would be able to feel them.

His heart was racing and his blood was pulsing through his veins, that was until he heard a voice.

"I don't think Jessica is all that hot in my opinion." Louis shrugged.

Harry looked up, and stared at the boy.

He continued to talk unbothered , and his cheekbones became more defined.

His eyes were blue blue, like bluer than anything Harry had seen.

Harry could feel his hand. He didn't know why , or how, but he could.

"Mate?" Louis spoke, his blue blue eyes were now locked onto Harry.

Harry straightened his posture.

"Yes?" He asked, blinking away whatever just happened.

"Y'alright?" Louis asked.

He looked around and realized the boys were still in depth conversation.

Harry exhaled, and nodded.

Louis gave him a questioning look, but dropped it, and wore the ghost of a smile on his lips.

Christ, Harry barely knew the guy and he was already fonding over his mannerisms.

The bell rang, and the group stood up, throwing away their trash and continuing onto their next class.

Harry felt less okay after Louis left.