echo. | larry stylinson.

Chapter Two - Broken Eyes.

I stared at him for a while, trying to catch the best view of him that I could. He was quite far away and the rain blurring my vision wasn’t a big help. All I could see was that he still looked gorgeous; he looked like he wasn’t really tall. His stature didn’t look big, rather small but somehow he still didn’t seem fragile.

“Harry, love, please close the door. The floor is getting wet,” my mother said and her voice pulled me out of my thoughts.

I nodded absently before I closed the door. I turned around and ran up the stairs into my room where I slammed the door shut and locked it.

What was happing to me?

 I didn’t even know the boy, neither have I ever seen his face or spoken to him. A sigh escaped my lips and I threw myself onto my bed, burying my face into my pillow. I once again listened to the storm while I slowly drifted away into sleep without noticing it.

~

The first thing I noticed when I woke up was that it was still dark outside. I reached for my phone and unlocked the screen. My eyes fell upon the small clock in the upper right corner and I groaned. It was barely past 5 am, which meant it was too early to get up but too late to go back to sleep.

I got up and stretched my body before walking to the bathroom. I stripped my sleeping clothes off and stepped into the shower. Once the warm water ran down my body the blurry image of the boy from across the street invaded my mind again.

That boy refused to leave my mind and yet I had no idea why, or what he was doing to me without even knowing him.

I stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around my waist; as I did this my look fell on my wrist and I slowly moved my arm closer to my face, my finger slowly tracing the scars on my wrist and forearm. It’s been a while since I last cut myself and the scars were fading, yet clearly visible. Anyone could see them if they took a look at my wrist, and that was the reason why I never wore short sleeved clothing.

I walked into my room and got dressed in my usual clothes; a black skinny jeans and my old grey hoodie. I looked into the mirror and bit my lower lip; I didn’t like the person looking back at me. Not at all. I’ve never been happy with myself and as long as I can remember I always had reasons to hate myself. I wasn’t being dramatic or anything, it was just the way I saw things. And everyone agreed.

I’ve been bullied since I was little. Words like fag, ugly or worthless were said to me on daily basis and those were the harmless ones. Nobody wanted to hang out with me and over the years I started to like this idea. I once had a best friend, his name was Liam but he moved away when Middle School started and he was the last person I let past my walls, except my mom even though I didn’t trust her that much.

People just broke me more and I couldn’t take it anymore. I pushed people away and I had no regrets about that. I had too many flaws and I didn’t want anyone to waste their time with me.

My door opened and my mom stood in the doorway, smiling at me. She didn’t know about any of my problems and I didn’t want to worry her.

“I was about to wake you up Harry,” my mom said. “I made breakfast, come down, yeah?”

~

Louis’ POV:

I hated Cheshire; well, kind of. I hated my mother because she got remarried and made us move from Doncaster to Cheshire. It was raining like hell on our first day and even though the sun was shining on the next morning it wasn’t lighting my mood up.

It was the next morning and that meant it was my first day at the local high school. I wasn’t exactly in a good mood, but my mum and my sisters were. They were smiling like idiots while I sat at the kitchen table, not finding the will to smile along. They obviously were excited about living here while I wasn’t. I rolled my eyes and stood up, grabbing my bag.

“I’m leaving, see you later,” I said and my mom nodded with a smile, placing a kiss on my cheek.

“Have fun at school, Louis. See you later.”

I nodded and walked out of the house to my car that I drove to school, and as I got out of my car I was pretty surprised. The school seemed to be surprisingly big and I walked up to the stairs. I entered the school and got my schedule out. Normally I would have to pick it up at the office but my mom made the school mail it to our house so I wouldn’t have to hurry that much on my first day, which was kinda nice.

My eyes wandered over my first lessons as a loud noise distracted me; I looked up and what I saw wasn’t a reason to smile.

Three boys that looked about my age were pushing a fourth boy against the locker, smiling devilishly. The pushed boy looked at his three bullies but I couldn’t read his facial expression. It was emotionless, almost as if he was expecting this to happen.

His curls were hanging over his left eye as he watched a raven-haired boy step closer to him. I wasn’t far away and that was the reason why I could hear what he was saying.

“Are you going to cry, Styles? How gay of you.”

He laughed and punched “Styles” into the stomach. The beaten boy yelped in pain and the sound of the bell echoed through the hallways. The dark-haired boy punched him one last time.

“See you at lunch, pussy,” he said before he turned around and walked away, his friends following him on his heels. The curly-haired boy slid down the lockers until he sat on the ground, his arms wrapped around his stomach and he didn’t move. 

I walked over to him and knelt down beside him. “Are you okay?” I said in a low voice and he looked up, his emerald-green eyes meeting my eyes.

His eyes were beautiful, was my first thought, and the other one was how broken his eyes looked.