Save Myself // Larry Stylinson

Chapter 2

This belongs to make_me_feel_like_home on ao3.
Chapter 2: II

Summary:

Suicide trigger warning on this chapter!

Sorry this took me ages to finish. I always have a really hard time getting passed the first chapters in a new story. I'm starting, now, to get to know my characters better, so I hope more updates will be coming soon--that and that fact that I am getting a new Macbook next week!!!

In other news I got tickets to two Ed Sheeran shows this summer--so I'm basically winning at life.
———————————————————————————
There was a banging on the door. It was intense and angry and Louis was scared. He was sitting on the ground in the shower and all the hot water had run out, but he hadn't turned it off. He was just sitting there, shivering and sobbing. He wasn't really bleeding anymore, he'd washed most of it off, and now he was just taking his time, trying to decide what to do next. He hurt. He was hurting in probably as many ways as someone could hurt. There were literal claw marks across his hip bones and down his back. They'd burned at first from the water, but now he was too cold to notice. His whole body was shaking and he wasn't sure if it was because he was frozen or because he was sobbing loudly and unabashedly. 

His bum hurt, Matt had fucked him raw with nothing but his spit as lube. He'd been bleeding when he'd first gotten into the shower, but he'd desperately tried to scrub the shame and the hatred from his body. Nothing really made him feel clean though. He was ruined. There was no real way for Louis to scrub off that level of dirt and self loathing. 

It wasn't just his body, it was his insides. He hurt deep and it ached inside him. There was something to be said for the constant reminders of just how shit he was. Matt was never shy. He never missed an opportunity to remind Louis just how pathetic and worthless he was. You're lucky you're rich because you'd never have any friends. They weren't new words, they were weapons that Matt had thrown in Louis' direction countless times, but they always resonated. Nobody loved Louis. His family couldn't care less about the messes he got himself into. Matt was a liar. He only loved Louis when he needed things, when it was his last resort. The words always had Louis running back, though, because, truly and honestly, more than he wanted anything else in the world, he wanted those words. He wanted to believe that someone could really mean them. He wanted to be loved. 

Sure, someone actually meaning them would be ideal, but it was unlikely. Louis was a worn-out pathetic excuse for a person. No one could love that, not really. 

It seemed like an endless cycle for him. He was trapped, his life was spinning out of control. No matter how many times he tried to steer it back on track, something happened that just dug him in further. There was no way out of this place he'd made for himself. He was hopeless. 

No one wanted him when he was the numbed version of himself, taking every kind of drug he could find, and no one had wanted him before that. He'd been ignored and overlooked his entire life. Nothing could change that. No matter how loudly Louis screamed, no matter how many forests he set ablaze in his wake, nobody saw him. He was doomed to a life of obscurity. 

He could hear Matt now, screaming and yelling and pounding on the bathroom door. He didn't know how long he had before the door gave out. He didn't know how much longer he could seek solice in the freezing stream of water that was currently pouring of him, but he hoped it would last. Matt had to give up eventually. He always did. 

He was so angry. No matter how much Louis did for him, he always ended up in this place—fucked raw and hurting inside of his soul. It was an endless cycle, and maybe it was Louis' fault. Maybe if he had something real and tangible to offer Matt, he could have fixed him by now.