Solace

Chapter Twelve

He was so confused about what he felt that he needed a release after his mum left him again. He took out his sharp blade which was covered in dry blood from the last time he had used it and stared at it, enough to burn holes. Washing it seemed harder than it seemed to Louis because the urge to plunge the razor into his wrist was unbelievably strong and so when the razor was clean and dry, he headed back to his room faster than ever before. His foot closed the open door and his mind was already spinning with suicidal thoughts although he knew he wasn't going to kill himself.

He was shaking because he hasn't done it in such a long time. It's been so long since he felt the relief pouring out of his veins, so long since he craved the adrenaline rush because he had kept himself busy with other thoughts. He had been so busy trying to work out his feelings for Harry that he simply did not have time to slash his wrists in a familiar pattern.

He wasn't ready for Jay to meet Harry, he didn't know if that lad meant something to him. He had absolutely no idea where they stood, he had no idea if they were even friends. He still had a little part of his brain telling him that Harry was nothing more than those people back home, the ones who threw scaring words at Louis like it was the most normal thing on earth.

He was so, so confused, he felt worthless, he felt unloved, hated, so why would Harry feel anything towards Louis? Why? Jay apparently saw the way that curly lad looked at her son, but did that mean anything? To Louis, he didn't like himself so he didn't see how anyone else could. He was drained with thoughts that he found it hard to keep his left hand still and steady.

Shakily, he lowered the blade onto his warm wrist and the contrast between the two different temperatures was so nice that Louis sighed with relief.

With a line of blood already pouring out like tears from his eyes, his whole body froze, blade barely two inches away from his wrist.

He thought about the little peck on the forehead, cheek, just everything. He wanted to bleach his thoughts to get rid of them, to forget them, to stop them from bothering him, but you can almost never get what you need.

He sniffed because his nose was still runny, and wiped it with his sleeve, dropping the blade in the process. He left his wrist, didn't touch it, just kept it still. He let his tears fall and thought that it'd be best to go and visit Anne if he ever wanted to get better. Because he did, so badly. He wanted to get better, he wanted to get rid of the crave for blood and blades, he wanted to get rid of the depressing thoughts that ran through his mind. He just wanted to be a normal person, or as normal as you can get when you're mute.

Because being mute means you're a freak. Everyone knows it. Especially Louis. Especially the bullies. And especially Harry, that's for sure.

As per usual, Louis knocked on Anne's office door and waited for her to open it up. He needed to tell her that after her own son met his mum, Jay, he cut. He was embarrassed about the whole situation, annoyed at Harry, angry with himself, sad with his mum. He didn't like Harry in that way, right? Because if he did, he wouldn't feel like this. His heart would melt at the sight of Harry, his trust would lean towards the curly dude, his stomach do back flips, he would feel loved.

He knocked again, after no-one answered. He really didn't feel like opening the door himself. His sleeves were rolled up and the blood, although slowly drying, still clung to his skin. His breathing was uneven, like the surface of himself.

"Hi Louis!" Harry's quirky voice made Louis jump because he could've sworn that the door didn't open.

Louis' eyes widened because he certainly did not want to see Harry, did not expect to come face to face with him. He wanted to see Anne and to cry on Anne's shoulder, to tell her how he felt. Louis' bottom lip trembled and that's when Harry, looking straight into pools of blue, wrapped his arms around Louis' shoulders in a warm embrace.