Unsteady L.S

3.

Nick: Hi beautiful, miss you

Nick: I've got the F the C and the K, and baby, all I need is U

Nick: I still have that bottle of wine we were talking about

Harry stares at his phone, reading the texts as they came through. Nick had been blowing up his phone for five days now and Harry was getting anxious. Well more than usually anyways.

When Harry woke up, there was a text from Nick. When he came out of the shower, when he ate, when he went to sleep- there was always a text or seven waiting for him. It had started to affect on his sleeping. Just last night he saw maybe the worst nightmare so far.

Harry opened his eyes to darkness. He was tied up in a chair, his legs tied tightly to the chair and his arms tied up together behind his back. Harry sighed in frustration, tilting his head back. He started to move his hands up and down against the edge of the chair, in an attempt to break free from the ropes.

Harry continued this until he heard a nervous voice talking and a pair of steps walking towards him in a hurry. The boy's heart started racing as he dropped his hands flat against the chair. His breathing turned uneven as he heard a heavy door to be opened and closed. Then the steps got louder and louder until they stopped suddenly behind him.

Harry felt a cold touch on his shoulder, making it feel like his heart had stopped from beating. The cold hand was soon replaced with something bigger but equally as cold object, what the boy didn't recognise.

The other person in the room said something to the person behind Harry and a second later, they start to move the sharp object down on the boy's arm. When they get to his wrist, the object moves across Harry's stomach. The feeling of cold, spread around Harry's body making him anxious. His breathing started to going shakier, making it harder to breath in.

This is where it ends then, Harry thought inside his head, ready to let go.

Soon, his already black vision started to get blurry, as the oxygen runs out. Harry cursed in his mind how his body didn't seem to want to let go.

That was where Harry woke up with his breathing shaky and just covered in sweat. He didn't recognise the person when he was sleeping, but as he woke up he swore that it was Nick. It had to be.

Of course, the voices had had a comment on this.

You're just as weak in your dreams than in real life.

This had made Harry even more upset than he had been already.

The texts had caused Harry to suffer from a greater urge to cut. That's why his wrists stung whenever he showered or just got dressed in general. Not that he had actually cut, he just had scratched harder and more often, so the lines were more obvious and the worst of them were bleeding. Not majorly but still bleeding.

Harry had tried to talk about it with Niall, but the boy was busy with Liam. The two had been hanging out every day since the party and it didn't seem like they were stopping anytime soon. The boy didn't dare to ask if he could join them since it was quite obvious that they enjoyed their alone time.

He considered talking to Zayn, but it felt like they weren't close enough for it. Nor did Zayn know about Harry's anxiety and depression- not that Niall knew about it fully either, but he had a better view on it than the raven haired boy.

Besides, it was quite likely that Zayn was hanging out with his girlfriend.

At times like these, Harry was sad that he didn't have more friends. Okay, well he had Ed, but just like with Zayn, they weren't close enough to talk about things like this.