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At nineteen years old, some people know what they're going to do with their lives. Most are off to college, studying what they love. Some take a gap year, and some just give up all together.
That's what Harry's story was. He went straight into college ready to turn his life around and change himself for the better. The green eyed boy was raised well. He had his mother, his sister, and his stepfather who all loved him, and he loved them back. It was when he got into his third year of highschool that things started to get bad.
Harry had a small group of close friends, and was happy with that. His grades were pretty good if he did say so himself, and he didn't really have any so called enimies. But, in eleventh year, Harry began to feel down for no reason. His mood would go from a happiness high, and crash to a saddened low. It could be the slightests thing that caused it.
Harry first noticed the episode when he was in class one day. He was taking notes as the teacher spoke, and raised his hand to answer a question. He was usually pretty confident with his answer, but the teacher said that he was incorrect, but not by far.
That's not what did it. It was the class' reaction that got to him. They started laughing, and one kid clapped him on the back and said "Good job, Styles." He turned his head down to his paper and sighed, resting his chin in his hand. The rest of the class he spent dragging his pencil over the paper.
That was the first time Harry felt stupid, and sensitive. Things like that didn't usually get to him that easily. Normally, Harry was able to just laugh and shrug it off. But this time was different and he was confused. Unfortunately, Harry just ignored it, but the nagging feeling about him in the back of his mind stuck with him.
"Why are you so quiet," his mother asked him that night at the dinner table.
Chin in hand, Harry was simply pushing his food around his plate, thinking. At his mother's voice, he snapped out of his thought.
"Hm? Oh...'m just tired," he sighed, sitting back in his chair a bit. "Long day."
Robin, his step-father looked over at him, scooping string beans onto his plate. "You look exhausted," he observed. "Try eating a bit more and maybe head straight to bed."
Anne nodded. "Robin's right, Harry. I'll write a note to your teachers in the morning to excuse you from missing any homework. Ok?"
Harry nodded and tapped his hands twice against the table before pushing his chair back. It scratched against the tile floor, Harry standing on his feet.
"Thanks...I, uh, I'm just gonna go to bed. Dinner was good, Mum."
With a heavy sigh, Harry trudged up to his room, grabbing clothes before heading to the bathroom. He washed up, scrubbing his face with soap and dabbing it dry. He looked up in the mirror from the towel and bit his lip. There were evident tears forming in his eyes, something that Harry didn't like. Because, unlike most guys his age, Harry cried. If he was upset, or sick, or hurt, whatever it may be, he cried. He allowed himself to.
Once he was finished, he ran a stressed hand through his curls before collapsing onto the bed on his back. He lay there for about an hour, forty minutes in he flipped the pillow. Sleep didn't come easy for him that night.
The next time that Harry reacted oddly was in lunch one day. He had been writing a draft for an essay for his History class, his friends chatting about. Zayn had peered over his shoulder to see what he was writing, quickly reading it over himself.
"Forlorn is spelled orn, not ourn."
Harry looked up at the raven-haired boy and blinked. Looking back at his paper, Harry saw that it was in fact spelled wrong.
"Oh," he sighed. "my mistake."
He erased the word and rewrote it, his scrawl quick and sloppy.
"There, all better." He sighed heavily.
"What's got your knickers in a twist," Niall questioned.
Harry shook his head. "Nothing."
"You're lying," he continued. "C'mon, what's wrong?"
"Nothing, Niall! Jesus! Can't anyone give me a break? Everyone always thinks something is wrong with me! I'm fucking fine, ok? I'm fine."
The table got utterly quiet, Harry huffing breaths before shaking his head.
"I-I'm sorry..."
"It's ok, mate," Liam sighed.
Harry didn't talk the rest of lunch, or the day for that matter. He left the canteen in silence, tears burning in his eyes. He walked to class, hanging his head in regret. He didn't mean to snap at his friends, but now he felt terrible. There was a dreadful aching in his chest from that all.
"Hey...Are you ok, Harry?"
Harry looked up and saw his best friend loop an arm around his shoulder.
"Yeah...I'll be alright, Lou. Thanks. I, uh, I'm gonna head to class now. Ok?"
Louis nodded, fixing his beanie. "Ok."
Harry went home and cried that night. It had been months since that happened last. Despite the fact, he was deep under the covers in the middle of the bed sobbing. He had music playing and his door was locked, and he only ate a few bites of pasta that night, as well.
He fell asleep, but his sleep was restless.
*
Harry stared straight ahead at the wall in front of him. The cool tiles on the bathroom floor not phasing him or making his bare feet cold. He sat on the edge of the bathtub, staring at the wall over the picture of a countryside cabin. It was three in the afternoon, and no one was home yet.
A stray tear fell from his eye, and he let it fall onto his lap, not bothering to wipe it. He looked down at his hands, trailing to his wrists. They were lined with several fresh cuts and bleedng. He'd been sitting there for forty-five minutes, letting the blood clot up in the towel. It was the first time he'd done it, and he was still in shock.
He'd been staring at the wall since he sat down. The slashes on his damned wrists were out of anger, and a semi-involuntary action. He pursed his lips, the crease between his eyes growing. He wanted to shrivel up and die; he wanted to floor to devour him whole.
Harry wished he could rewind and undo everything that he'd just done. He just wanted someone to be there with him.
*
Two weeks later, things seemed to start picking up for Harry. He arrived to school one day feeling alright and had a bit of a chipper mood. He found Louis in the hall on the way to class who seemed a little nervous. Something that was unusual for the boy.
"What's got you all pale today," Harry questioned the older boy.
Louis merely shrugged his shoulders. "Just...stuff on my mind."
Harry nodded and tugged at the sleeves of his jumper, fisting them in his palms.
"You're coming to the match today, right?"
Harry nodded. "Absolutely. I wouldn't miss it for the world."
Louis gave him a smile, saying that he'd see Harry later, turning and heading to his class.
When Harry arrived that night at the pitch to see Louis play, he sat in sixth row up, bundled up. He cheered along with Zayn and Liam as their two friends played on the field, their entire school cheering.
It was when Louis scored the winning goal that Harry, along with the rest of the crowd, screamed in celebration. People flooded onto the field as Louis was tackled into hugs and noogies, Harry bolting towards his best friend.
They hugged, more like tried to regain their balance, for three seconds before the were smiling at each other. And in the next minute, their lips touched. It was a simple peck before Louis looked at Harry nervously, and Harry returned the kiss, moving his lips.
Louis' arms were wrapped around Harry's neck. They pulled away and the smiles on their faces were huge. People clapped and whistled, a few booed, the right bastrds they were, but the two boys were elated.
They smiled at each other and kissed again.
For a while, time passed in a tranquil manner. Harry and Louis began dating, their parents, who happened to be best friends as it was, were so incredibly happy. Their mothers were both overjoyed that their sons finally started dating.
Harry and Louis immediately became insperable; they were attatched at the hip. The two always held hands, and Louis was overly romantic, taking Harry out on dates, being cheesy and giving him flowers, and all that jazz. When their first anniversary rolled around, Harry and Louis made love for the first time.
It had started off simple. Louis approached Harry saying that they would be going out to dinner that night, and Harry smiled, agreeing. After dinner, Louis took Harry around a park for a walk, and it wasn't long after that they found themselves giddy and giggling as they raced back to Louis' house. His mum and sisters were gone for the night, visiting a family member.
The minute the door closed, Harry was pinned against it as Louis peppered the boy's neck in kisses. Harry let out a low growl deep in his throat, lacing his fingers through Louis' soft hair. It wasn't long before the two were stripping each other of their clothing, tossing the articles around carelessly. Harry found himself pinned under Louis' weight, his short nails digging into the tan skin on his back. When they came down from their high, Louis collapsed atop Harry then rolled off and pulled the younger boy into his hold. Harry rested his head on Louis' chest listening to the beat of his heart, his curls tickling the older lad's chin.
Both boys were covered in sweat and panting heavily. And both boys were happier and more content then they'd ever been before.
Louis kissed Harry's head, tightening his hold and whispered, "I love you," to the boy for the firtst time.
Harry smiled up at him. "I love you, too."
Louis sighed contently and ran a hand over Harry's wrist involuntarily. In an instant, Harry's wrist shot away from Louis' hand. They'd been so full of lust for so long that Harry managed to forget about the cursed scars that he had.
"Why did you do that," Louis whispered as if his voice was lost. "Why did you pull away."
Harry struggled to find his voice. "I...uhm..."
"Harry..."
Tears came into the younger boy's eyes, making the light green pool into a hazel-like color. He sobbed into Louis' naked chest, Louis' strong arms wrapping around him tightly. Harry gripped the pillowcase behind Louis' head in a death grip. He let out a heart-wrenching sob, and felt Louis begin to rub his back. He took Harry's wrists and kissed each and every last scar. Some were fresh, some were old.
"You don't have to result to this, Harry...you never have to."
Harry couldn't respond, because he was crying, soaking Louis' chest.
He cried himself to sleep that night in Louis' arms, convincing himself that he'd just ruined their anniversary.
Eventhough Louis told him he hadn't.
*
Two months later gave Harry and Louis a hard hit. With the end of the summer fast approaching, it only meant that Harry would be off to college. He and Louis were originally planning to go to the same school, but Harry had actually gotten accepted into another school along with a half scholarship.
"You said we were going to be in the same school, Harry! Why would you go anywhere else?"
Harry groaned and put down the shirt he was folding. "I under stand why you're upset right now, Louis. But you and I both agreed that would do what made us happy."
"Yeah, but we're not gonna be happy without each other."
Harry shook his head. "I don't have time for this, Louis. I leave next week. If you're going to be a pain in the ass, leave."
Louis frowned. "Fine. If you're gonna be that way..." Louis took off the necklace he was wearing. It was their anniversary date. He tossed it onto the bed. "we're through."
Without another word, Louis left, and Harry cried. He didn't mean to be an ass to Louis, but Louis didn't have to say it back. They had fought once before, but by the looks of it, the two lovebirds were over.
Harry threw a picture across the room, shattering the glass. He slid down onto the bed and cried, shaking with tears as he gripped his hair. After reganing his breath, Harry crawled over to the frame that was now completely broken, glass and all. He pushed the shards around the carpet and flipped over the silver frame. The picture was of him and Louis hugging, Louis kissing him on the cheek as Harry was playfully leaning back. The smile on his face was huge.
But now, tears falling, Harry and Louis were no longer together or happy. Harry, a relapse and urge slowly sneaking up on him, grabbed a larger shard of glass and brought it to his wrist.
One slash, for yelling at Louis.
Another slash, for how he felt.
Several more, all because he was blaming himself.
Louis knew about his scars. That equalled another. Harry tossed the shard away and wrapped his wrists in black cloth tightly. He cleaned up the mess and tucked himself into bed. He cuddled with Louis' much too small jumper, breathing in his scent.
"This is all my fault..."
*
A few months passed, and Harry and Louis made up. Louis showed up with tears in his eyes and soaking wet from the pouring rain outside. He appologized for how he spoke and treated Harry that one night. Harry sighed and pulled Louis into a hug, lifting him up off his feet. He kissed Louis passionately, and held him close.
They made sure that they made each other feel loved, and happy. Louis kissed Harry's scars one-by-one. He begged Harry to not do the unthinkable again.
He responded with, "I'll try my best."
Louis kissed his lips, running his hands through his love's hair, whispering how much he loved him, how much he cared for him, and how he would forever look after him.
"Do you see us in our future," Harry questioned late on night.
Louis rested his head on his arm and sighed. "What do you mean?"
"In like...five years."
"Yeah."
A smile ghosted over his lips, and he pressed back into Louis' chest.
"Do you?"
He nodded.
"I see us with a family, and a dog, a house..."
Harry smiled and turned in Louis' hold to look at him. "I love you," he breathed.
Louis kissed Harry for a long minute and sighed. When he pulled away, he kissed Harry's forehead and looked into his eyes.
"I love you, too. I don't know what I would do without you. I don't want to lose you."
Harry smiled up at the older boy and tucked his head into Louis' neck.
"You won't...don't worry."
A year later, Harry was worse than ever. His work at school didn't seem like the best, and he was beginning to doubt his career choice. He wanted to go into teaching, but how could he be a teacher if he couldn't control his sensitivity and how he felt? How would he be able to help his students if they had problems?
Harry knew one thing for sure. He wouldn't.
The day of his exam, Harry concluded that he'd studided every night for three weeks and had absorbed no information whatsoever. And, instead of doing the logical thing and asking for a makeup exam, he took it anyway. The stress made him loose track of time, and he didn't finish the exam. He handed it in, giving his professor a saddened look, which the man returned.
Harry walked to his dorm and stared straight ahead for a little more than an hour. Things like "I should have done better" and "I'm such an idiot" echoed in his mind. A week later, he recieved a letter in the post saying he failed, and had to retake the course or withdraw.
He ripped up the paper that night and cut his thighs and hips.
He didn't retake the course. He didn't withdraw. He didn't tell his parents. He got a message from his mother the week following saying she wouldn't be home that week. She and Robin were going to visit friends a few hours away.
So Harry took that oppertunity. He packed up his dormitory and put it in his car and headed back home. Gemma was in Sheffield still at school, so everything was perfect. He'd gotten a call from Louis saying that he was visiting his mum and sisters.
Harry got home, called Louis, and took him out for the night. He took him to dinner and the cinema, and they took a walk in the park. As clichè as that sounds. At the end of the night, he hugged Louis tightly.
"Why are you so mushy today," the blue-eyed boy quizzed.
Harry shrugged, giving the boy a lopsided smile. "I dunno...I missed you, really."
Louis smiled. "I missed you, too, Haz."
Louis kissed Harry roughly, and they rushed back to Harry's house. Harry pushed Louis gently onto the bed, kissing him as he slowly pushed his pants down. Harry wanted slow, love-filled sex. He wanted to memorize Louis perfectly. Just one last time.
One last beautiful time.
Harry was so in love with Louis, fell so utterly hard for him that night, he cried even more. Bittersweet tears.
"Hey, sh...what's wrong, babe?"
Harry shook his head. "Nothing...I just love you so much. I always will. Ok?"
The elder boy pushed back Harry's curls which were sticking with sweat to his forehead. He nodded and kissed him quickly.
"I'll always love you, too."
Harry left the beautiful boy the next morning, promising to see him that nighy. He kissed Louis for what would be the final time and exchanged in a whisper one last "I love you." Harry knew that Louis was watching him as he walked away to his car. When he arrived home, that's when it begun.
Harry got a piece of paper and the best working pen he had before sitting down at his desk. He gave himself an hour, and that's how long it took.
Louis,
If you're reading this, then I'm gone. I've been gone for a while. I mean that as in emotionally. I know how you've found me, and I know it's a gruesome sight to see, but I had to. I'm so sorry. For the longest time I was happy, I felt loved and all of that, but more recently, I've been feeling depressed.
Now don't go and begin blaming yourself. This is in no way your fault. It was so many things on top of you ever saying something to me. And I don't want you thinking that you didn't love me enough. Because you did. You were perfect and gave me all I've ever wanted, and that was love. You gave me love and taught me how to love. And I'll be your angel and watch over you and the boys and my family. I promise.
You know how we talked about our future? Where we had a family of our own and a dog. I even envisioned us with a white picket fence. That can still happen, but I want you to do it for me. Fall in love, have a family, live that dream. Ok? You deserve it.
I don't want you to forget me, but I don't want you to forever mourn on my death. It's not going to be healthy for you if you resolve to that. The life I lived...I feel like I didn't achieve anything. And, I just want you to know, that no matter how bad I was feeling, or how dull my day was, you were always there for me. You always made me feel better.
I love you so much, Louis. It's not even funny. This hurts me so much to have to leave you, but this is how I feel. I'm crying as I'm writing this, as you can probably tell by the evident tear stains. I wish things can be better, but I don't see much but darkness and more depression in my future. I'm not trying to be selfish. Please don't think that you could have done something to help me. Nothing has worked. But you being there, knowing that you truly cared for me, that's what made me even the slightest bit happy.
So, live life, laugh a lot, love the one who truly loves you back. Get married, have a family, and please don't forget me.
I'm so in love with you, Louis.
Love,
Harry x
Harry folded the letter and put it into an envelope, kissing it. He took off his cross necklace and put that in the bottom of the paper holder, giving that a kiss as well. He sealed the envelope shut and placed it squarely on the corner of his night stand. He sighed and turned to his closet.
Within ten minutes, he had on his nicest blazer, pair of jeans, shoes, and button-down top. He stood in front of the mirror and fixed his curls up a bit, beginning to shake his head. What did it matter? He wasn't gonna look good in a short while. When he felt that he looked alright, Harry walked out of the room and downstairs. He spent a good half an hour looking around his house one last time before heading back up to the bathroom. He grabbed the razor and paced to his room, sitting down on his bed under the covers.
Harry sighed, tears in his eyes as he picked up his phone. The boy sent a message to his boyfriend and sent it.
Come over at five? I miss you :)
With that sent, he began. He skimmed over his scars, hoping that they would just...disappear. Harry put a slash on each wrist to start, beginning to cry. The boy dug deep into each cut, feeling the pop of his veins. He heaved a breath as he sliced a few more times and lay down on his back. His vision got progressively blurry, making him know that there was no longer any turning back. Harry took one last look at the picture of him and Louis before looking up at the ceiling and falling into an eternal sleep.
*
Louis responded to Harry's message fairly quickly. Having really missed Harry for those few months, seeing him constantly was crutial to him. At a quarter to, he began walking to his house. Louis hopped up the boy's front step and knocked on the door.
The strangest thing was the fact that the door was pushed ajar.
Louis hummed to himself in question and pushed the door inward a bit more. When Harry was home alone, he never left the door open. Not even partially. Stepping slowly inside, Louis was welcomed with the smell of Harry's cozy home. It was warm.
"Harry? It's me!"
Louis stood awkwardly for a minute in the middle of the foyer. He swayed himself, shifting his weight from foot to foot before sighing.
"Babe?"
Still no response.
Supposing Harry was upstairs, that's where he headed. He peered into the office that was wide open. Not there. The bathroom was vacant, and pretty much no one seemed to be home. As he headed to Harry's room, Louis was beginning to deem the house deserted.
Louis pushed the door to Harry's room open gently, stepping onto the soft wall-to-wall carpet. He smiled seeing Harry asleep in his bed, tucked under to covers. He walked over to the empty side of the bed and hovered over Harry for a moment. He smiled and kissed his cheek.
"Haz...babe. Wake up."
No response.
Louis smiled, emitting a laugh as he shook Harry's shoulder.
"Harry," he whispered. "Come on, I want a kiss."
Harry didn't stir, and Louis began to realize that something was wrong. Louis noticed that Harry had his good blazer and button-down on and pulled down the covers a bit. When he reached Harry's forearm, Louis realized that Harry wasn't breathing.
"H-Harry..."
Without thought Louis yanked down the duvet and let them fly to the foot of the bed. What the poor older boy saw was horrific. Blood had stained the sheets and seeped through the sleeves of the boy's shirt and blazer. Harry's blood. Louis let out a heart-wrenching sob and pulled up Harry's sleeves. Scars worked their way up Harry's arms, coming from every cardinal direction. Going completely weak, Louis collapsed on Harry's chest, his ear over his heart. It wasn't beating.
"Ha-a-rry...n-no! You weren't supposed to leave m-me."
Louis' sobs were loud and horrendous, to the point where he could make himself sick. He saw the razor which was held in Harry's limp hand.
"No...You can't leave me! We were supposed to grow old together...we were going to have a family, find a house with a white picket fence, we'd get a dog...W-hy..."
But the curly haired boy on the bed lay still and lifeless as his boyfriend broke down completely. And Louis knew that day was that his entire world came crashing down.
Everything else happened too quickly for Louis' liking. He called Anne, not being able to get the words out. She was never the same after seeing her son dead in his room. Gemma became a complete wreck, not being able to pass Harry's room without getting a cold shiver and breaking down in tears.
But no one was as distraught as Louis was. He barely talked, hardly ate, and never slept. He was always pale and ill-looking and unshaven, and he spent most of his days cuddled up with Harry's beanie and jumper.
After reading the letter that Harry had written to him, he took the necklace, slipped it around his neck and never once took it off. The day of Harry's funeral, Louis tucked the cross under his shirt and watched as Harry's family spoke. He refused to say anything, knowing that he would only break down in tears and collapse.
While everyone talked to the mourning family, Louis quietly went over to Harry's casket. It was still wide open. He peered in and saw Harry looking as handsome and peaceful as ever. He leaned down and placed a long kiss on Harry's unmoving lips. He grabbed Harry's hand and rubbed his knuckles.
"I knew I should have helped more," he started. "I knew I should have helped you. I knew what you were doing to yourself, and I thought you weren't doing it anymore...This is my fault. I could have helped you."
He sniffed and pushed back Harry's curls. "You're perfect. Ok? You're beautiful, and amazing, and loving and caring...Watch over me, yeah? Just like you promised? I love you, Harry. I always will.
"I'll try and move on, but I can't garuntee that I'll heal ever. I don't think you'll expect me to."
He let out a short sigh and his lips quivered into the ghost of a tiny smile.
"I love you, ok? Keep this with you. Don't lose it."
Louis kissed the picture of him and Harry that he'd brought with him before placing it next to Harry.
"You're beautiful."
He gave Harry one final kiss on the lips. He made it long and special. And it was just perfect. Even though it sounded odd.
"I'm not going to say goodbye, Harry Styles. So...I'll see you soon. Wait for me, yeah?"
He whispered one last "I love you" to him before sniffing and backing away.
They buried him in a beautiful cemetary, and Louis visited every day. He got a family, and he loved them. But he loved Harry forever. He knew Harry was there watching him. And he hoped he was proud of him.
Louis never once said goodbye to Harry. He never did. Because the last thing to do is say goodbye...but it wasn't the last time they'd see each other.