It Is What It Is~ Larry Stylinson

It Is What It Is Chapter 41

A/N TRIGGER WARNING! This chapter contains vivid descriptions of Overdose and talks of previous drug abuse, If you are upset by any of the above, PLEASE DO NOT READ! The next chapter will be up on Friday. As always thank you for reading. :)

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*Previously*

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Louis' POV

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"Or even when he just needed someone to talk to? No. Because everyone was too caught up in themselves to even notice. So yes, I was an awful friend to Harry whether he agrees or not, but I wasn't the only one."

I'm about to say something but that's when the door opens and harry walks through looking breathtaking as always. I share a look with Zayn and get up to greet Harry. 

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Zayn's POV

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*Flashback*
2 Years ago.

"HARRY"

"HARRY MATE WHERE ARE YOU?"

"HAZZA"

"Hi Zayn, Harry went outside to meet with someone" My sister Saafa says, she's sitting on the couch reading 'Emma' by Jane Austin, her favorite at the moment.

I feel my stomach drop, my throat closing around a breath I tried to take. I took a steadying moment to calm my heart rate before I spoke again. "Tell me what the guy looked like?

Saafa furrowed her brows together. "He was really skinny, like, abnormally skinny. Black hair, quiff–"

"Fuck!" I said, turning on my heels and sprinting towards the rooms. "No, no, no," I repeated as I ran. I could hear Saafa get up and start chasing after me, trying to keep up as I went, running through the hallways like a lunatic.

"Z, what's going on?" Saafa asked from behind me, right on my heels.

"Fuck, no, Haz, no, no, no."

I finally reached the attic and threw the door open.

I cough was heard in the corner, and I ran. After bursting through the door, I felt vomit rise in my throat.

My eyes landed on the white t-shirt that rested on the ground next to rug. I followed the trail up to the counter, where a silver spoon, the lighter I got harry for his 14th birthday and a small syringe were carefully placed in order. A low whine brought my attention over to the corner of the small room, where Harry sat, skin turning blue and jaw slackened, laying against the wall.

My body reacted in slow motion, moving to the tub to grab him and shake his limp body. "No, no," I repeated, slapping his cheek once, twice, and then a third time. "Wake up," I whispered, using my thumb to lift his eyelid, producing an extremely dilated pupil. I reached down and picked up Harry's arm to find a knowing track mark in the bend of his elbow. I pressed two fingers against the his neck to check for a pulse, only finding a weak excuse for such.

"Z? Where are you?" a voice called from the room.

At once, I lost all little power I had, crying violently. "Call an ambulance!" I screamed to no one in particular. "Fuck, call someone!" I shook at Harry's body again, before the she fluttered her eyes and coughed roughly, frothy fluid being expelled from her mouth. "Come on, Hazza, come on."

There were hands on my shoulders trying to pull him away from the me, but I shrugged the hands away and pulled his body from the wall and onto the floor of the bedroom. I placed him between my legs and rocked back and forth, sickening sobs coming from my mouth. The only thing I focused on was the shallow breathes escaping from Harry's mouth.

It felt like hours sitting on the floor holding him, checking Harry's pulse every three seconds. It felt like hours as I prayed to a god that I don't even believe in to save him. It felt like hours before a gruff looking man pulled him from my grasp to put him on a stretcher, wheeling him out of the room while two other men checked vitals and slipping a breathing mask over Harry's beautiful face. It felt like hours of me screaming at the men to let me come with him to the hospital.

It felt like so much pain had been condensed into one person and filled to the brim with white-hot fire, being caught by a lit match.