Harry looked at Hermione and Ron who were cuddling on the couch in the Gryffindor common room. He felt the ache in his chest again. Deciding he'd best leave he stood and went to the dormitory. As it was still early no one else was up there. He curled up in his bed and pulled the curtain shut so no one could see. He laid there thinking, with his knees curled up to his chest.
"Why does it hurt?" he thought. "Why does it hurt to see them together?" He could feel his chest tighten more and his eyes strain with tears that would never flow. "I don't love either of them, but it still hurts. Maybe I'm just jealous of what they have, of the fact that they don't seem to need me anymore. I guess that's it." Harry pulled out a razor he been keeping for quite some time and made a few long cuts on his ankles. When he was done he put the razor back under his pillow and let the blood flow. He was too tired to tend to his wounds now. He could feel his feet growing cold from lack of blood. He smiled at the irony of it all; his best friends' happiness meant his misery.
Harry knew he was being selfish, his friends were happy, he should be too. He was happy for them, he just felt abandoned. He felt as if his best friends were being taken from him, like he didn't mean anything to them anymore. It had all seemed so perfect in the beginning but now he was breaking and he couldn't stop it. Everyday was more a lie then the one before. He smiled but it didn't match with how he was feeling. Spent, Harry closed his eyes to go to sleep. He felt sick with guilt and had trouble. Grey eyes and blond hair appeared in his head, and it made him feel slightly better. He didn't know why, and he knew he should be disgusted, but if it made him feel better then what did it matter?
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HP doesn't belong to me. This should turn into something interesting soon. There WILL be slash, I'm warning you now.