Chapter 10

It was three days later and Louis was furiously cleaning the flat. Harry was at the gym and Anne would be there any minute. He sighed, this was their last resort. If Anne couldn't help Harry who could? What if know one could help him? What if it was to late? No, he couldn't think that way. He had to stay positive. Anne was going to help and Harry was going to be okay. He finished vacuuming and was jerked out of his thoughts by a knock on the door. He put the vacuum up and went to answer the door. Anne stood outside the flat with a worried expression on her face.

"Hello Anne," Louis attempted a smile.

"Hello Louis," Anne's smile was weak, "do you mind telling me a little more about what's going on with Harry?"

"Of course. Come on in," Louis said.

Anne followed Louis over to the couch and sat down. Louis went into the kitchen and got two glasses of ice water and some crisps. He walked to the couch and set the food on the table.

"Thank you Louis," she said, taking a crisp, "now what's going on with Harry? Liam was very vague."

"What exactly did Liam tell you?" Louis asked, his mouth full of crisps.

Anne gave him a look that read, 'didn't your mother teach you not to chew with your mouth full?'

"Sorry," he mumbled.

"It's fine," she laughed, "all Liam told me was that Harry was losing a lot of weight and refusing to eat."

"Well," Louis said, "for the last, I'm not sure, 4-5 months Harry has only been eating a few times a week. He's lost a lot of weight, although I don't know the exact number. Lou suggested that he may have anorexia. At first I didn't believe it, I thought it was a girl disease, but now I do believe it. He has almost all the symptoms. And a few days ago we made tacos, in hopes that he would eat something. He came home clutching his chest with a look of fear on his face. His shirt was sticking to him and you could see every bone. He was sweating, but also shaking. I thought he was dying. We tried to get him to go to the hospital, but I told him if he would eat a couple tacos he didn't have to go. He agreed, but when Liam put the tacos in front of him he totally freaked. He started to cry, mumbled 'too many calories', and left the room. Simon thinks that, when he eats something he feels he shouldn't, that he throws up. He also thinks that he's been cutting because he never gets changed in front of us anymore and he spends 30-45 minutes in the bathroom sometimes. Anyway that's pretty much it."

Tears were streaming down Anne's face by now and she put her head in her hands.

"My poor baby," she cried, "are you sure about this, Louis?"

"Yes ma'am," I sighed, "but if you really want proof just wait until he gets back from the gym."

"How long has he been at the gym?"

"About four hours," I said, "he should be back any minute."

"Four hours!?" She exclaimed.

"Yeah. I've tried to stop him or at least make him go for less time, but he's completely adamant about going for four hours."

"Oh my goodness," she sniffed, "do you mind if I make dinner tonight?"

"Not at all," Louis said, "but don't be too hurt if he doesn't eat it."

"Well, I'll make some soup. Maybe if it's light enough he won't feel as nervous as he did with the tacos, seeing as they are quite heavy."

"That's actually a really good idea, Anne," Louis smiled, "I don't know why I didn't think of that."

"Do you know the last time he ate?"

"Last night, about 7, he ate a salad. No dressing, just lettuce, a couple chopped up carrot sticks, and some celery." Louis said.

"I see," Anne said, "I'm going to go start the soup. Do you have everything to make minestrone soup?"

"I don't know," Louis shrugged.

"Do you have vegetables in the fridge?" She asked.

"Yeah, Harry has been keeping the fridge full of almost every type of vegetable," Louis laughed.

"Perfect," she smiled, "I'm going to start the soup."

"Okay," Louis said, "I'm going to take your suitcase into my room."

"Are you sure?" She asked, "I'm perfectly fine with sleeping on the couch."

"It's fine Anne," Louis said, "I'll be fine on the couch. You just make yourself comfortable in my room."

"Thank you Lou," Anne said.

"Anytime."

Anne walked into the kitchen and began taking ingredients out. Louis went back into the living and grabbed Anne's suitcase. He pulled it into his room and set in by his bed. He could hear the door to the flat open and he walked back into the living room to see Harry. He was once again leaning against the doorframe, but he kept his hand off his chest and his expression was a lot less scared. Despite all this, he was still shaking and sweating. He had his sweatshirt on, so his all too tiny frame was hidden from view. All in all he looked sick and Louis just wanted to shove food down his throat.

"You okay, Harry?" he asked, worriedly.

"Y-yes 'm fine," he mumbled, breathing heavily.

"Are you sure? You look like you're about to pass out," Louis sighed.

"I'M FINE LOUIS," he shouted, "WHY THE FUCK CAN'T YOU ACCEPT THAT!?"

"Because I know you're not all right, Harry, but I'm not going to fight," Louis mumbled.

Just then Anne walked into the room.

"Harry Edward Styles don't yell at Louis. He's just worrying about you and by the looks of it he has plenty reason to be worried. You look like a zombie. Are you sure you're alright? Never mind, I know you aren't. Now, come give your worried mum a hug."

Harry's eyes were wide, but he gave Anne a hug nonetheless. After kissing her cheek he stepped back and sent Louis a glare.

"No offense to you mum, but why the heck are you here?" He asked.

"Liam called me and said that you had lost a lot of weight and weren't eating," she frowned, "seeing you I see he understated the problem."

"There is no problem mum," he sighed, "and if the rest of the boys could learn to keep their traps shut and mind their own business they'd realize nothing is freaking wrong!"

"Harry it's obvious you're sick and you need help," she said, "I'm making minestrone soup for tonight. If you want to prove that nothing is wrong then you'll eat what is put in front of you."

"You sound just like Simon," Harry muttered, "he said the same thing."

"I always knew he was sensible," Anne smiled.

"Whatever," Harry groaned, "I'm going to take a shower."

"Well," Anne sighed, "tonight is going to be interesting."

"Harry dinner is ready!" Anne called.

Harry walked into the kitchen, where three bowls of soup were set on the table, and groaned. He watched Anne and Louis eat their meals. Finally he raised the spoon to his lips and took a sip of the soup. The soup was bitter on his taste buds, just like most food nowadays. He sighed, but spoonful after spoonful he finally managed to finish his bowl of soup. He looked at Anne and Louis, who had the biggest grins on their faces, and gave a weak smile.

"I'll be right back," he said, "I need to use the bathroom."

Both of them nodded, obviously not realizing what he was about to do. Harry went into the bathroom and closed the door, forgetting to lock it. He crouched down and lifted the toilet seat up. This wasn't the first time he had purged, but it was the first time he had purged a whole meal. Without giving himself a chance to reconsider he stuck two fingers to the back of his throat and began to gag. It had gotten to the point where purging was fairly easy. He threw up for ten minutes straight, waiting to see blood his cue to stop.

"He's been in there awhile Lou," Anne sighed.

"Yeah," he agreed, "I'm gonna go check on him."

Louis walked over to Harry's bathroom and opened the door slowly and quietly. What he saw shocked him, even though he had a hunch that was what Harry was doing. Harry was crouched down bending over the toilet seat, fingers down his throat, and bloody vomit coming out of his mouth. He sighed, apparently finished, and flushed the toilet. He stood up, only to stumble backwards, and blinked repeatedly. He turned and, upon seeing Louis, paled visibly.

Louis frowned and said,

"Care to explain?"