The Degradation (translation)

I'm not leaving 2

Louis' pov

Seeing him try unsuccessfully to chase away his demons was terrifying, but feeling him cling to me in the hope that I would help him do it was even more terrifying, because I had no idea how. I was mad at the whole damn world and just held him in my arms, stroking his hair, telling him I was here, and he finally calmed down. He fell asleep, but I never let him go. Even when he had his third dream, I still held him tight. And then I brainstormed myself. I don't know anything about his illness, and it's scary. All this time I've been trying to convince myself that I can snap my fingers and get him out of this, but... No, I just can't. I'm strong enough to be around, but not to heal. Compared to his... Oddly enough, I'm just a minor bug that's easy to crush and can't do anything.

I had long since realized that he was afraid to wake up next to me because of the incident with Samantha. Okay, that's fine. If the word "normal" still has any meaning at all... I naively thought that his fear was justified and constructive, but... Damn it, Louis, he's mentally unstable, what's the logic in that? He shouldn't have panicked like that. I shouldn't have been so hysterical. But he's afraid I'll leave. In the sense... really afraid of. Not a couple of times a day when I suddenly disappear, but all the time. Like I could vanish at any moment. Maybe it's because of the drugs? They gave him hallucinations that disappeared as quickly as they came, and he's afraid the same thing will happen to me? Or is it just a phobia? I don't know. And if I don't find out, I can't help him. And I'll always be a useless bug.

I also realized that he was madly angry with himself. He doesn't want to be afraid, but he's afraid, he doesn't want to panic, but he's panicking. He's like my ex-girlfriend who was obsessed with dieting. I desperately wanted to lose weight, but every night I still broke down and stuffed her stomach. I didn't want to, but I did. Harry gets mad at himself every time he hurts me, every time he breaks down, but he still does it again. He doesn't want to do any of this, he wants to be with me without twitching every time I get out of bed, but he can't. He can't control it, and that's the worst of it.

It is not he who controls his illness, but she who controls him. I wake up to the smell of food, opening my eyes hard. 15:05. I stretch, yawning loudly, and roll over on my back. I barely notice that I'm alone when the door to the room suddenly opens. Harry stands in the doorway with a tray in his hands. He looks tired, but he still tries to smile at me.

"Hey..."

"Good morning."

I sit up on my elbows, adjusting the blanket so that he can put the tray on it. He lies down across the bed, holding his head in his hands, and, according to the good old tradition, avoids my gaze.

"Harry."

But he just shakes his head. Doesn't want to talk? I've seen it before somewhere. I look down at my breakfast and freeze. Heck. I told him I went out to buy us something to eat, and I came back empty-handed. Well done, Louis, you're just saving the day. I know he doesn't want to talk about it, but I don't want him to get it wrong.

"You know I wasn't going to leave you, right?"

He tears off a piece of bread and looks at it as if it were made of gold.

"I know."

"Then what happened?"

He doesn't answer. He continues to stare at the breadcrumbs. Yeah, I don't have to push, but... it went to hell, of course I should, otherwise it does not work. I don't need to know the reason for his fear to get rid of it.

I take his hand and force him to come up to me. He lies down next to me and puts his head on my shoulder. I look into his eyes. Come on, look at me the way you looked at those bread crumbs.