Chapter Twenty: Finally

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Louis's POV

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My feet tapped on the wooden floor in a nervous rhythm. I kept looking at my phone like I expected him to text me again, but I knew the likeliness was small. I couldn't help but reread the text he sent me earlier again.

Im sorry I'll be at school monday

Monday. But he wasn't in first period, and my heart was slowly feeling heavier and heavier. Liam was beside me, giving me sympathetic looks.

"He'll be here, I'm sure," he said, leaning in at our table so no one would hear us. I nodded, but I didn't believe him.

I didn't want to eat until he got there, or more so I couldn't eat. What if he was hurt? What if he was dead? I shook my head. No, he's fine, he had to be. Each second passed by in a decade, but eventually a hooded figure entered the library and walked to our table. My head immediately perked up. I hadn't seen him all weekend, and even if that's not so long, it felt like it was. His head was kept low, his hood covering most of his face. I felt like standing when he sat down, like he was some sort of royalty to me, but I stayed seated.

"Hi," I muttered to him. He lifted his head, barley, and smiled, but it was a forced, sad looking smile. My heart beat still sped up though.

"Hi, Louis," Harry's voice was crooked and hoarse. I nearly frowned when I heard it. Something was definitely wrong with him. But something was always wrong with him it seamed.

I wanted to ask where he was, or why he hadn't answered my texts, but instead I gently grabbed his hand. At first he flinched, but he let me take his cold fingers in mine. Our conjoined hands were tucked under the table, so no one saw, but I was pretty sure Liam did, as he smiled slightly and looked at his lap. Harry's cheeks flooded with pink and he looked at me.

I wasn't sure why I instinctively grabbed his hand, and I wasn't sure why he hadn't protested, but I knew it just felt right.

*

Harry's head was rested on the back of my desk chair, his eyes closed.

"Tired?" I asked with a smile. He grumbled a response back and fluttered his eyes open.

"Yeah, a bit."

I grinned and sat down on my bed, pulling out a text book with a goofy looking frog on the cover. Harry stood up and stumbled over to the bed, sitting down on it slowly. I knew I needed to tell him about Niall, but I didn't want to ruin the happy mood he was in. He explained to me that his phone charger broke and he had no way to charge his phone, which is why he hadn't responded to my texts or calls, and I said I believed him, even though I saw straight through his lie. If he didn't want to tell me why he had been absent all weekend, I didn't have to know.

A thought occurred to me, and I asked if I could see Harry's arms. He held his bare arms out, and I let out a relived sigh. There were no new cuts.

"Sorry, I know it's probably kind of awkward, but I just, I want to make sure you're okay," I said, looking at my lap.

"No, I get it. Thank you. It makes me feel like s-someone cares," his voice was a bit shaky, but he smiled and pulled his hoodie on.

"Of course I care, Harry," I said truthfully, watching as he traced his fingers over the seam of my comforter. "Thank you, for not doing it again," I finished, referring to his arms.

He smiled back, but looked down at his lap quickly. There was silence for a second or so and opened my study book, expecting Harry to do the same, but his eyes stayed on his lap.

OCD ➳ Larry StylinsonWhere stories live. Discover now