painless ➸ larry

ten

*chapter ten;

"You—no, not you, not Niall, not happening, not happening." Harry whimpers to himself, curled up into a ball on his bed. After he got home from Ashton's, he promptly put himself in this position. He's never really had a panic attack before, but he thinks maybe he's having one now. 

His mind is twirling around memories of Niall and what they did together and what Niall ended up doing to him, his muscles feel like they are going to be ripped out from under his skin—which, itself, feels like it's boiling. His fingers are firmly wrapped in his hair, and he is rocking back and forth, trying to slow his heavy breathing. How one boy could do this to him, he does not know. Actually, he does know, but he'd rather not think about it right now.

He can cope with this panic attack (or whatever is happening to him), until his mother walks into the room and sees him in this vulnerable state. Sure, she saw him in more vulnerable states; like, when he was a baby and when he's asleep. But, this time, it's different. It's different. 

"Mum, go away. Please, go away." Harry cries, not looking up at his mother. 

Anne disregards Harry's pleas and comes closer, resting a hand on Harry's shaky back. He yelps, scooting away.

"Go, Mum, go!" He shouts, burying his face in his knees. 

"Harry! Settle down. What's wrong?"

"Did you not hear me before? I want to be alone! Go away," Harry sobs. "please."

"I'm not leaving until you tell me what's bothering you." 

"Go, go, go." Harry whimpers, his eyes burning from the saltiness of his tears. 

"Fine, I'll go. But, I'm coming back in ten minutes. Okay?"

"Okay." Harry clenches his eyes shut, trying to stop the tears. He's eighteen, he shouldn't be crying over this! That's what he thinks, anyway. 

When Harry has still lived in Cheshire, when he was fifteen, an Irish boy moved into town. Niall, was his name, and Harry thought he had nice blue eyes and a cute nose and fluffy looking blonde hair, and that he was definitely boyfriend material. When they first talked, Niall had admitted that he was bisexual, which made Harry doubt this beautiful boy's existence. 

Harry's chest squeezes as he thinks about the first time the two met. Niall seemed so innocent, and Harry had never expected what Niall would do to him in the future. Hell, he still doesn't quite believe it really happened.

Niall was in all Harry's classes but one—Harry wasn't very good at Spanish. In some classes, they sat right next to each other. In others, they sat across the room and had to give each other secretive glances that no one but them noticed. 

That's how it started, anyway. Niall and Harry's relationship was never really normal. Is anyone's? Niall always secretly had his eye out for other boys. Harry knew this, but he refused to acknowledge it. If he didn't, he thought it would go away. It didn't, but Harry knew that Niall would never act upon these impulses for other boys. Well, he thought.

Pulling the blanket over his head, Harry tries to hide from the memories that are flooding back into his mind. He knew his mum would be coming back in at any moment, and he wanted to hide from her, too. 

Niall liked to cuddle. He liked to hug and kiss and tickle Harry all the same, to see Harry's eyes light up made Niall's day. He liked to listen to Harry's cheesy jokes and tease him about his curly hair. (In which he really did love, dearly.) But, Harry wasn't ready for anything else Niall wanted, so he resorted to Harry's best friend, Josh, for those kinds of needs.

Josh is the name that Harry hates the second most, right behind Niall. But, a little part of Harry doesn't hate Niall. That part of him thinks that the boy that took him on cute dates to the parks and not-so-fancy restaraunts still is in there, behind the guy that was fucking Harry's best friend while he had been dating Harry, for a year and a half. 

Harry bites his lip as he hears the door knob turn and the door open. He stays curled up under his blanket until it's gently taken off his shaking body. He's surprised to see that it's not his mum in front of him; it's Louis. Even worse. 

"Lou, get away." Harry says as soon as green eyes meet blue. 

"No, Harry. What happened?" Louis says softly. Louis' trying to ignore the rejection. He left Liam's house as soon as he heard what was happening with Harry.

"I don't want to talk about it, go, now." Harry turns his head away from Louis so that he won't see that more tears are slipping down his cheeks. 

 Louis takes Harry's face in his hands, turning it to face Louis again. 

"Will you please tell me what's got you upset, love?" Louis coos, looking straight into Harry's pretty, meadow-y green eyes. 

Harry doesn't want to, but he gives in. He lets Louis' arms wrap steadily around his shoulders as Louis sits on Harry's bed behind him. 

"My, uh, e-ex boyfriend," Harry pauses, shutting his eyes and shaking his head before continuing. "I saw him today," He clenches and unclenches his fists. "He was—he was sleeping with my... my best mate, and—for the whole time we were dating. That's why we broke up." Harry's head drops down. "I don't know what I—what I did wr-ong." Harry hiccups, so Louis rubs his back, gently. "I don't know why he's in Doncaster. I want him to leave. I—I never want to see him, ever ag-again."

"You don't have to." Louis says, but he doesn't know that he's lying when the words leave his lips. 

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