Therapy // Larry AU ✔️

and a tongue like a nightmare

warnings: selfharm

...

Harry woke up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat. He looked around to Louis, watching his chest rise and fall for a couple of seconds.

An overwhelming urge washed over his body - an urge that he had known for so long. He looked back at Louis and started to slowly get out of bed. He contemplated whether he should wake Louis up and try to talk to him, but the thought was instantly shut down when the voices reminded him of how selfish that would be.

So without a sound, Harry slipped out of he room and made his way quietly to the bathroom. Everyone was home at this point, but it was well past midnight and he had at least three hours before Jay would be up for work.

He rummaged around in the drawers before he found a stack of disposable razors that Louis used to shave his facial hair with. He found a small pair of trimming scissors as well, using the tip of them to break into the plastic surrounding the blade.

The green eyed boy took a deep breath, fumbling with the blade for a few seconds before he pushed his sleeve up and held the sharp piece of metal to his scarred wrist. He had multiple white scars on his left forearm, but his pale skin tone usually blends into them, making the marks unnoticeable.

The voices were encouraging him, explaining to him that this would take away the anxiety and mood swings. Harry had played this game many times before, he knows if he does it then he'll feel nothing but utter bliss, but it will be short lived. Afterwards he'll be left with nothing but a heavy heart and a bloodied wrist.

No matter how many times he tells himself this, he always ends up giving into the urge. He's not strong enough to fight on his own anymore, especially not after what happened with Nick. Nick was his rock and now he had nobody. He had Louis, but he wouldn't drag him down even further than he already has.

Harry didn't stop dragging the metal across his skin until he felt numb, and the blade had slipped from his blood coated fingers, he looked down at the mess he made and started to cry. With a shaky hand, he turned the faucet on and stuck his arm under the stream of cold water. He bit down on the collar of his shirt to keep from making any sounds of discomfort. Once his arm was cleaned and he had made sure to treat it properly, he discarded the plastic remains and hid the two blades high on the top shelf of the medicine cabinet.

He made his way back into his room without a sound. He noticed that Louis was now up and looking around frantically,

"Lou? Are you okay?" Harry raised an eyebrow.

"H!" Louis let out a breath, putting his hand over his heart, "God, I woke up and you weren't here and I just, I got scared." He admitted with a blush.

Harry blushed as well, making his way over to the shorter boy. "Just went to the toilet quick, I'm sorry for scaring you."

"'S okay," He nodded, "back to sleep?" he asked with a yawn, pulling Harry back into bed. The two got back in their previous position, but this time, Harry held onto Louis and little more tightly.

....

The sun was invading the room through the opened blindes, much to Louis' dismay.

"Who sleeps with the bloody windows open?" He grumbled, hiding his face in the covers.

"I just opened the blindes, you twit." Harry laughed, walking back to the bed. He had woken up an hour earlier and decided to use that time to shower and make himself decent. "C'mon, I wanna take you somewhere." He smiled.