The cold blade traced across his skin, playing a fresh layer of crimson to surface on his skin. For a moment the numbness lifted and he almost felt normal but that soon subsided and he was faced with the all too familiar pain of the aftermath. Harry pressed a tissue against the fresh cut to help the blood to coagulate. The sooner it healed, the faster he could let the blade pull along the flesh again. It would become just another scar to be added to his already abundant collection. Harry knew he had a problem but he was far too ashamed of his 'habit' to seek any help. He hid his morbid practice by wearing a thick leather banded wristwatch. He made sure to confine his secret to a small area of skin just to make sure it wasn't found out. He had been successful in doing so for about six months and he planned to keep it that way.
Harry wasn't suicidal, that wasn't the point of his practice. He just wanted to feel something besides emptiness. One person made Harry feel something but that was another reason but he cut away at his skin, he had to quiet his feelings.
Louis was everything to Harry. He was caring and breathtakingly handsome. Louis was the one person that could spark something inside of Harry. Harry had felt nothing for so long and when he met Louis for the first time during the X-factor, it was if Harry's fire had been re-ignited. From the moment Louis had initially smiled at Harry, Harry was smitten. He had fallen so far and so fast, it was so dangerous and yet so thrilling. Harry's stomach flipped whenever Louis was near but over time Harry realized that while Louis did care, he didn't feel the same way Harry did.
This epiphany slowly drowned Harry back into his numbness and he was again in the darkness. He was trapped and the only way to escape was to be-friend the blade. It was an addiction that helped him escape from the suffocating nothingness that followed him everywhere. But the escape only lasted for a limited amount of time and soon enough he would have to indulge in his habit. The moments were his own, his secret stolen moments. He just wanted desperately to feel.
"Haz? You okay in there?" Louis's voice crept into Harry's locked dressing. In shock, Harry dropped the razor with a CLANG!
"I'm f-fine!" Harry called, nervous tears pricking at his eyes.
The pain of his freshly cut wrist was debilitating. He usually had more time to hide away to himself to recover but Louis was here. Now. Harry would just have to grit his teeth to distract himself from the hurt. Harry scrambled around, looking his watch desperately. He needed it so he could cover his cut.
"You don't sound fine. Can I please come in?" Louis asked, a concerned tone to his voice.
Harry was out of time. He pulled down his sleeve, over his wrist and threw open the door. He made sure to plaster a 'smile' on his face for Louis's sake.
Louis practically toppled into the room, his eyes stark with panic. When he saw Harry smiling, it was unsettling. Sure, Harry was smiling but Louis could see an emptiness behind it that assured him that something was very, very wrong.
"What's up?" Harry asked nonchalantly, letting Louis pass by him into the room. Harry spotted the bloodied razor and kicked it under the dresser before Louis's eyes fell upon it.
"Cut the crap, Harry. What's going on with you?" Louis demanded, his eyes wavering.
"I have no idea what you're on about. I'm perfectly fine." Harry deflected, leaning against the dresser casually.
Louis was baffled. How could Harry, his best friend, lie openly to his face? Louis wasn't stupid and Harry seemed to think he was as thick as it came. That's when Louis saw it: the crimson soaking through Harry's sleeve.
Louis walked closer and he could see the panic dance across Harry's eyes. Harry tried to slip his wrist behind his back but Louis caught it before he could. Harry expected the worst. He almost wanted Louis to scream and yell. Harry didn't deserve any more than that.
But, there was no yelling, only silence as Louis pushed up the sleeve and revealed the fresh cut amongst the mess of scars. Louis's eyes softened and tears sprung to his eyes. He looked up at Harry and whispered sadly, "Oh, Haz."
Harry was shocked at Louis's gentle reaction. It wasn't even an accusation, just more of a soft understanding.
Harry didn't know when he started sobbing or even when Louis had locked the door and wrapped Harry up in his arms. It was all a blur but all Harry could register was Louis's comforting warmth encompassing him. It dulled the pain significantly.
"It's okay, Haz. I'm right here. It's going to be all right." Louis assured Harry as he rocked the younger guy back and forth. Harry's blood from his wrist now stained Louis's shirt. But Louis didn't care. He just wanted Harry to feel better, but things like this were never that simple.
"I don't want to do this anymore." Harry choked, cradling his damaged wrist in his hand. The bleeding had finally stopped.
Louis looked down at the collection of self-inflicted wounds on Harry's forearm. He couldn't begin to understand what drove his friend to do such a thing to himself, but that didn't matter. Louis was going to be there for his friend. Their relationship was unconditional, if Harry needed anything Louis would be the first one to help.
Louis ghosted his fingers over the Harry's wrist and was mesmerized by the darkness that the cuts and scars represented. Harry's darkness. Louis suddenly had an uncontrollable urge to press his lips against Harry's wrist and his eyes flicked up to Harry's for a moment. Harry's eyes were stormy and distant; Louis just wanted to bring his friend back. He missed him. Without a second thought, Louis lowered his lips to the scarred forearm and pressed them into Harry's skin. The chill of the skin was shockingly comforting and Louis felt himself filled with a feeling of sheer electricity from the connection.
Harry snapped into full attention as he felt someone's lips against his arm. He had been so lost before and now he had been pulled back by the connection. He looked down and saw Louis tenderly pressing his lips against the wrist where his scars lay. It was such a beautiful gesture that Harry's eyes filled with peaceful tears.
"Thank you…" Harry whispered and Louis looked up at him with wonder in his eyes.
It was as if the kiss had unearthed something within him he had never seen before. He saw Harry as the most beautiful and vulnerable creature in the world and all he wanted to do was protect him for everything harmful. Louis wouldn't deny that he probably had had this feelings subconsciously before but their intimate connection had awakened it into his conscious thought.
He loved Harry Styles, every last shred of him wanted to indulge in his curiousity but he didn't know if Harry felt the same way. He didn't want to put Harry through more than he could handle. He wanted to show Harry how much light there actually was in the world.
Harry observed Louis thinking and watching him, it was such a spectacular transition of Louis from eyes full of questions to eyes brimming with one confident answer. Harry wanted to know the answer so desperately, he ached for it. He ached for Louis.
Harry couldn't stand it any longer, so he moved his head closer to Louis's. Louis's breath caught and Harry knew what he had to do. He gently guided their lips together.
Harry's darkness almost completely dissipated because of the connection. Still parts of him were shadowed but now most of his being was bathed in a gorgeous light. It was warm and he knew it was all because of Louis.
Louis was surprised at Harry's action and yet so very, very relieved his best friend felt the same way as he did. It was time to banish the numbness that caused Harry to practice his morbid habit. The reign of Harry's pain was finally coming to a close.
Harry pulled away and just watched Louis. He just wanted to observe his saviour,
Louis. At the same time as Harry watched Louis, Louis was exploring Harry's eyes as to determine if the kiss had had any affect on Harry's numbness. Their was a spark of hope dancing in Harry's eyes that assured Louis that while the journey would be long, Harry would get better. Patience would have to be Louis's virtue.
It was too early for Louis or Harry to say those three little words aloud but when they touched each other's skin, they knew it instantly.
"No more of this, okay? We'll get you all the help you need." Louis said, gesturing to Harry's damaged forearm.
Harry nodded silently before turning away from Louis and retrieving the razor from under the dresser. "This no longer has any power over me. Could you get rid of it?" Harry asked and Louis agreed with a small smile.
It would be a struggle for the both of them but as long as Harry had Louis, the light to his darkness, he knew that things could only get brighter.