OCD ➳ Larry Stylinson

Chapter Fourteen: Secrets Exposed

(OK SO WATTPAD DECIDED TO BE SHITTY AND MADE THIS CHAPTER IT'S OWN STORY FOR A WHILE SO SORRY BUT THIS IS STILL CHAP 14 WHICH A LOT OF YOU HAVE ALREADY READ SORRY)

.

.

Harry's POV

.

.

Louis' eyes were glazing with tears as he stared. I didn't like it. I wanted his gaze to stop.

What did I do to myself?

Suddenly he was kneeling in front of me, his gaze never skipping a beat and his hand still clasped against his mouth. He shook with a sob and lightly took one of my beaten arms. I winced, but didn't fight it. Honestly, I didn't care if he was touching me. There was nothing I could do. I was over. If anything even remained with Louis and me, it was over as well.

You didn't even deserve Louis in the first place

Fag

Turning my arm over, Louis could obviously see the scars that lined my arms. Some were more prominent than others. Some were from years ago and others from last night. I could clearly see as his mind began to connect the dots. This was the reason I always wore long sleeves, not just because it was winter. He probably noticed how each arm had the same amount of cuts and how each was in a perfect straight line. His left hand swiftly lifted my other arm. He was staring at both arms, examining the scars and open cuts oozing with blood that began to dry.

He now had both my arms in his firm yet gentle grip. Sparing a glance up at the brunette, my breath hitched. Someone so beautiful shouldn't be crying as much as Louis was, especially over me. Louis' eyes were wrecked. They were puffy and tears streaked his cheeks, much like mine.

His eyes were fixed on my bloody arms. Suddenly he moved his gaze upon my eyes and I felt as though he was gazing into my soul. His lip began to quiver as for the first time, he spoke.

"Why?" Louis choked out, sobbing violently, hands still wrapped gently around my arms, making sure he wasn't touching any of the open cuts.

"I'm sorry." I spoke in a small voice through tears.

Without warning Louis' arms were swung around me in a tight embrace. He sobbed into my jacket, but I didn't mind. I hugged him back, crying heavily as well. My arms still burned like hell, but this was more important.

"I'm sorry, Louis. I'm so fucking sorry." I repeated into his neck, my voice coming out shaky and strained.

Between sobs, Louis spoke.

"No, stop. This isn't... it's not... Please just... just stop," the last word was filled with so much hurt. I didn't want to do this, I really didn't. But I was addicted and it was my escape.

We stayed like that for a while. We must've looked insane. Two teenage boys crying and hugging in a bathroom stall of a high school. Louis pulled apart after a bit. He picked up some of the bandages that were on the floor, partially covered in my blood. Grabbing some tissue, he swiftly stood from his position, whispering to me he'd be right back. I didn't protest and sat still. He returned only a moment later with the tissue slightly damp from water.

Kneeling down he took my arms again. "May I?" he whispered quietly. I nodded wordlessly, just wanting Louis to stay in my presence.

Carefully he began dabbing the wounds, stopping when I let out an audible gasp. I gave him a look that told him not to stop. After a few minutes of small gasps and cries of pain, the dried blood was washed off, leaving ten swollen cuts. They still burned like hell. Louis started to wrap my arms in the bandages, his sobs still not subsiding.