Sharing Louis Tomlinson (Larry AU) COMPLETED

My Confession. That Went Well... *

I take a week off of work. Mostly because this is the worst break down I've had.

I spend it in bed, Liam almost trying to nurse me back to life.

Zayn comes round on the Monday, bringing me a new CD and he plays it while we talk. We don't talk about me crying, or the fact it was so obvious that I was still crying for which I was grateful.

He leaves in the evening, after telling me he thought I was the kindest person he knew.

He is wrong.

Niall came round on the Wednesday because that was his next day off from work. He brought round food, which he mostly ate but it was a nice gesture. We talked about mine and Louis' penises which was both funny, and really unhelpful, because it reminded me of how it felt when he touched me.

He also left late, after telling me I was worth the world.

He is wrong.

Eleanor came round the next day, making me cry harder, completely throwing me off.

She held me until I stopped, and then plaited my hair for the rest of the day, talking about Louis. I don't think she realised how unhelpful she was being but I genuinely did like her. So I listened to every word.

About his hair in the morning, and how it made her laugh when he rolled over. I know, I've seen it.

About how he tripped up in the shower one time, and I could almost imagine it because I fucked him in one.

About his tattoo plans, and I could almost see it. Almost taste it. And it made me feel sick.

I am sick.

I cried again for an hour, and it was horrible. I didn't think I could cry more.

She talks to me outside of the shower, kindly reminding me I smell. Something the other guys wouldn't have done, and I'm glad.

She helped me to eat and drink, before going home, after telling me she thought I was the most beautiful person she'd seen.

One: I'm not. I'm really not.

Two: Louis should be the most beautiful person she's ever seen. Because he is.

Waking up on the Friday, I hide under my covers, crying when I realise I'm still alive. I'm still the same Harry, whose fucked up his own life.

Why have I done it? I knew what I was doing with Louis. I knew what it would mean to me, and what it would do to her.

I'm disgusting.

I should just -

I sit up sharply at the idea.

Yeah, I should just do it, right? I could. Is it easy?

I creep up from my bed, boxers feeling loose from lack of eating, looking around the room. Trying to see it differently now I am resolved. I have to end this now.

End me.

I start crying. I won't see him again. I can't imagine that. His beautiful blue eyes, his cocky attitude and his voice. All of it.

But I also won't feel it again. The unrequited love, the pain of rejection. More importantly, I won't feel the disgust of who I am. What I've done.

Who I've always been.

I spot a load of tablets in packets, just sitting on my desk, and I leave my bed, legs shaking from lack of exercise, and pick them up.

Do I have enough? I don't even know.