Again. Again. Again. 《 l.s》

♡ TWENTY - EIGHT ♡

[ 🚨!!TW!! 🚨 Borderline self harm. I dont know if it will trigger anyone but better safe than sorry.]

••••••

[ Harry's POV ]

Louis takes a long blink. Making every second feel like an eternity. Before he opens his mouth and slowly says. "Yes, I know him. His name is Hen-Harry. His name is Harry and he is my best friend. And my name is Louis." There is a big sigh of relief and the medic hands him the washcloth to dry off his face. Which has a little bruise on his right cheek. But other than that he seems pretty much fine.

"Can you stand up?" Louis nods and we put out our hands so he can grab them. He pulls himself but stumbles around a bit and kind of falls onto me.

"Sorry 'bout that." He says, straightening himself up.

"Take it easy, you probably have a concussion. Lemme help you." The medic tells him. He wraps one of Louis's arms around his shoulder. He glances at me suggesting I take the other. But Louis whispers something in his ear and he nods.

"Now Louis, you need to go home and rest. Luckily football season is over so you won't have to worry about that. You might wanna go to the doctor if your symptoms of a severe concussion continue to progress. Is Harry your ride?"

"Yeah, he is."

"Ok, let's get you out to the car."

•••

[ Liam's POV ]

"Daisy please stop crying." I beg. Niall and I have tried everything. Snacks, songs, dancing. Yes, dancing.  But they just won't stop crying. I think Niall is starting to go crazy. Every time that Daisy calms down Phoebe starts crying and the whole cycle starts over.

"What if he's dead." Daisy cries.

"Daisy, he's not bloody dead, now please be quiet." Niall groans from the front seat.

"LOU-LOU!" Phoebe shouts. Making everyone in the car jump. And lo and behold there is Louis. Hobbling in between the school nurse and Harry. I get out of the car and Niall stays right where he is. Harry opens the door where the twins are sitting.

"He seems relatively fine, he needs to rest. And someone needs to keep an eye on him and make sure his concussion isn't getting worse." The nurse informs us before giving Louis's unstable body to Harry. Who just stands there like a deer in the road.

"Here, give him to me." I tell Harry.

•••

[ Harry's POV ]

"I can walk, I'm not a cripple." Louis protests, but as soon as I let him go he stumbles around and ends up leaning on me again. Liam rolls his eyes and grabs him. Louis gives in and goes limp.

"Niall you sit in the back with Louis." Making Niall groan and throw open his door. Stomping around the car like a two-year-old.

"Nooo." Louis whines. "I wanna sit by Harry."

"That's not gonna work this time, sorry. Harry gets sick in the back. You can't drive, Niall shouldn't drive. And the twins aren't old enough to sit in the back. So the only option is you and Niall in the back and Harry in shotgun."

"Fine, but I'm not happy about it."

"Hey, neither am I!" Niall shouts from the back. "I don't wanna sit back here with you, what if you throw up everywhere or something. By the way, if you do that I'm never speaking to you again."

"Shut up Horan." Louis climbs- falls into the back seat with Niall and I hop into shotgun.

"Alright let's rock and roll." Liam says, turning around and putting his arm on my headrest to reverse.

"Oh look everyone, we unlocked a new character. Middle-aged dad." Louis says sarcastically from the back."

"Even when your head is scrambled you can still be mean." Liam says quietly. Turning around and putting the car into drive.

We have to drive for a while and every once in a while I glance back and Louis is snuggling against Niall. Every time I see them it makes my chest feel all hot.

•••

We are at my house and I jump out of the car as soon as we come to a stop. I quickly say bye and go running to the front door. After walking through it three times and slamming it I go sprinting up the stairs.

"Hey honey how was the-" My mom asks, but I slam the bathroom door before she can even finish her sentence. I slide down the door and the tears that have been taunting me for the last hour finally come pouring out.

"Stop crying, stop crying STOP CRYING." I shout at myself. Pulling at my hair and leaning my head back on the door.

"Sweetie?" My mom says hesitantly from outside the door.

"Please go away mom, I'm gonna take a shower." Once I hear her footsteps fade away I make myself get up. I look at myself in the mirror. I look like a mess. My hair is all disheveled, black face paint is smeared everywhere, my eyes are all puffy, and my cheeks are wet.

Look at you
Pathetic
You deserve this
Now get in the shower
Go ahead, do it
You know you want to

There is nothing more satisfying than watching yourself slowly crumble in front of the mirror. Especially when you know you deserve it.

I strip and get in the shower. I grab a washcloth and squirt a pile of soap onto it. I clean my whole body. But then I go back and scrub the spots where the boys and coach touched me. I scrub and scrub. Until my arm and shoulders are bright red and tiny spots of blood are showing up. I scrub until every touch feels like someone is ripping my skin off. I scrub until it goes numb, even when it's numb I can still feel them touching me. I can still feel all the germs inhabiting my body. I scrub until I can't take it anymore, and even then it's not enough

But I give in and turn off the water, step out, and get dressed in my pajamas. I take my hand and wipe the fog off the mirror. And the person I see staring back isn't who I wanna see. It's a boy, but his eyes are tired. And his biceps are bleeding and irritated.

If you touch another thing in this bathroom mom will die.

I glance over at my hairbrush sitting on the toilet. I reach out to just grab it. I reach out, prepared to ignore the voices. The voices that have been absent for so long. But I can't bring myself to do it. I sigh and walk out of the bathroom. But when I turn around I see my mom standing right there.

"Oh, baby-" Her voice catches and she holds out her arms for me. I walk into them and the second my head lays on her shoulder I break. Letting out these painful cries into her shoulder. Practically soaking her shirt. She rubs my back and hushes me. WHen we pull away she runs her hand over my face.

And then her hands land right on my 'scrub spots'.

I hiss in pain and back away. She looks confused, but when she looks down her confusion turns into realization. This isn't an unusual occurrence per se. But it hasn't happened in a while.

"Harry, do you wanna talk about it?"

"No, I don't. I just wanna go to bed." I say, heading for my room.

"Okay baby that's fine. I love you."

"Love you too mom." I say lamely.

••••••

The voices are back. Who missed them? The lack of voices was not an accident by the way.

And no I wasn't gonna have Louis lose his memory. This story isn't THAT cliche

I'm like unreasonably excited for the next chapter. hehe

Love you

- T xxxx