Harry Styles One Shots

Closed Off: the one where harry doesn't share his feelings

Summary: Harry doesn't share his feelings

Warnings: angst

Word Count: 2.3k

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Harry was an open book. He usually was, most of the time at least. Y/N could tell just from one glance to his face, or a double-take at his actions--what he was feeling and how he was handling things going on at the moment.

He was always smiling but she knew he was in pain. Harry didn't like putting a burden on peoples' backs; he didn't 'enjoy' knowing that there are people out there that would rather be concerned with his feelings rather than their own. He said to Y/N that he didn't think he could live a normal life when he was aware that she was constantly glancing at him worriedly with a matching lip bite.

It put too much guilt on his shoulders and as much as he is willing to give; he wouldn't allow himself that treatment he deserved. He was too nice, you could say. Harry put others before himself and it slowly built up inside of him-the negative feelings that he didn't think of at first soon got bigger. It collected and piled up inside of him subconsciously that he didn't even think it mattered, but oh it did.

Small stressors in his routine-filled day progressed into frustration, especially at night. He was in constant denial that maybe he needed help with counselling the turmoil he was feeling. He was conflicted if someone was willing to listen to him. Like, genuinely listen. And even if there was, he would probably feel a pull in his chest, his innermost self begging him to please stop embarrassing himself because this happens to everybody and he's not special or anything like that. Harry was in pain and he needed to do something about it, he just didn't know what.

--

Y/N was Harry's closest friend and as much as she thinks she knows him; she doesn't actually know him. Harry had a thing where he disappeared for a couple of days. She thought of it as a 'cleanse' from all the negativity of the world and a way for him to scour all of the optimistic events inside of him. However, it's been more than a week and he still wasn't back connecting with his network of friends.

She already tried reaching out to him. She had left countless messages on his phone--and when that failed--she proceeded to leave voicemails. Y/N was sure that his call log was most likely filled with her name. Still, there was no response and she was getting extremely worried for her dear friend.

Y/N knocked on Harry's door, hoping that he would find enough energy to answer it. Y/N had brainstormed ideas of where and what he could be doing. Maybe he was sick, so Y/N bought a bag full of medication, some canned soup, and vegetables to cook up for him in case he was. She got snacks too, to make him feel better in the latter.

She pounded her fist against the door again when no one answered the door. Her nervousness began to creep in when she couldn't hear any movement from the other side of the door. Grasping her purse, she took out the key to his house for emergencies exactly like this.

The door creaked open. It was silent, no noise could be heard and the house was cold. It was like an abandoned house. She wasn't even sure that Harry was home. Steadily, her footsteps led her to the different areas of the house to check if he was in one of them.

The kitchen was messy, dishes left on various surfaces, unwashed. The living room was neat, however, as if it was bought just ten minutes ago. She hoped that Harry was home and breathing. She didn't want to walk in on him--you know. Y/N shook her head at the thought.

His bedroom door was open and from a near distance, she could see a lump on the bed amongst the sea of pillows he'd insisted on getting. He said it helped him sleep. It made him feel like he wasn't alone at night.