Louis has been stuck in an insane asylum for a year. His parents put him there, believing he was, well, mental. But truth was, he kind of was. Depression is considered a mental disease. He told people the voices in his head were telling him he should die, and people then believed he was insane. When he escapes the asylum after a year of being there, he finds a city near by, where he finds a tall young man roaming around.


3. Don't Fall


(Sorry that this took a while to come out, it took a few days to write it. x)


Harry's eyes are stuck on me the entire day. I sat down on the chair by the kitchen table. Why did I do that last night? Now he'll ask about everything, and that's what I've been trying to avoid the entire time I've been here.

He sets down the plate of bacon in front of me as well as the plate of eggs beside it. He takes a seat in front of me and looks at me again. "You're going to have to talk to me sooner or later, ya know," he tells me, raising his eyebrows slightly.

I just shake my head and grab a piece of bacon, taking a big bite out it. I haven't eaten good food in forever. That crappy food the asylum gave me was, well, crappy. I still feel him staring at me, making me slightly uncomfortable. I know he wants to help me, but I don't need his help. I take another piece of bacon and get up, heading to the living room.

I take a seat on the couch and eat the rest of the first piece of bacon I took. I hear footsteps behind me and I sigh, knowing Harry's probably following me. I look behind me and see him walking up to me. Great, gunna have to talk to him about last night and possibly my entire life. He takes a seat next to me and just looks at me, kind of like he was waiting for me to say something.

"Don't look at me like that," I mumbled, looking down at my hands. "It's creepy."

I hear him chuckle softly and feel him move around in his spot. "Tell me what happened last night," he says. "And I'll stop looking at you."

I look at him and shake my head. "Have you ever thought that maybe I don't want to talk about it?" I ask him, my eyes squinting slightly. I scoff slightly, leaning back. "I don't want to talk about why I almost slit my fucking wrist to someone I just met."

"You trusted me enough to go to my house," he tells me, chuckling afterwards. "Hell, what if I was a rapist or murderer? You trusted me. How come you can't tell me this?"

I sigh, looking back down at my hands. "Fine," I mumble. "I'll fucking tell you. I want to die. I hate myself. I'm depressed and I believe that no one will ever love me, even my parents. I'm weird to people, they bullied me in high school. I never went to college, afraid that people would judge me there as well. I usually never went out, I had no friends so it was no point to go out. The last boyfriend I had beat me and that literally scarred me."

It was quiet for a while. Harry was looking down at his hands. He shook his head slightly. "I'm sorry that that happened to you."

I shake my head and chuckle. "It's fine," I say, completely lying to his face.

He looks at me. "Don't lie to me," he says. "It's not fine. That someone has beaten you and people bullied you. You don't deserve that."

I just shrug and get up from the couch, heading to the bathroom.


Did I seriously stay in a strangers house the entire day? I need to get a job and some money to buy a house or stay in a hotel somehow. I can't stay at this guy's house any longer. He'll figure everything out and turn me back in.

I was sat down on the couch, watching whatever was on the television tonight. I didn't know much of the shows, considering all I did all my life was sit in a white room with nothing to do but kick the wall and sleep. But I knew a few, some that I used to watch when I was about 13. Full House was on tonight so I was able to watch that.

Harry walks into the room with a plate of cookies. "I made these and wanted to offer you some before I ate it all so," he says before placing the plate on the coffee table in front of me. I look at him and he fucking smiles. That smile is just so fucking beautiful, it hurts. But I can't fall for a complete stranger like that.

I smile back and take a cookie. "Thanks," I say softly. I took a bite and holy shit, it was amazing. This kid as some talent. I can't cook worth shit, like even if I learned how to, it would be shit. "Wow."

He looks at me, kind of with a concerned look. "What? Is it not good?"

I chuckle and shake my head. "Hell no, this is amazing," I tell him. "Best cookie I've had in my life."

He smiles again and sits next to me. "Thank you," he mumbles. He takes a cookie and leans back into the couch. His eyes are still on me. I try to ignore it and just look at the television, but it's not helping. His eyes are like burning holes into my head. I turn around and look at him, raising my eyebrows.

"Has anyone ever told you how handsome you are?" he asks me, a faint smile on his lips. His eyes were still traveling around my face, like he was looking at all of my features.

I feel my cheeks get warm and look down. "U-Uh," is all I say. No other words come out. I could say "no" to be honest to him but nothing is able to come out at the moment.

He clears his throat. "Uh, sorry," he mumbles. "I didn't mean to-"

"No," I say, looking up at him. "It's fine." A faint smile comes upon my lips. I took a look at his face as well. Goddamn, he was fucking beautiful. Nothing about him was ugly or not perfect. Even his little acne marks are perfect. It's the little imperfections that makes a person themselves, so it doesn't matter to me if they have a little of them or a lot.

He notices me staring at him and smiles. He doesn't even say anything like, "What are you doing?", he just smiles at me like he's telling me it's fine that I stare at him like that. He was doing the same to me a few seconds ago, so I guess he should react that way.

I kept staring intently that I didn't even realize that he put his hand in my hair. I snap out of it and look at his hand. "You're hair looked soft, sorry," he said before jerking his hand back. I laugh slightly and shake my head.

"It's fine," I mumble.

I don't even know what you would call this moment that we were having but it was sweet, I guess. Kind of weird and creepy, but nice and sweet.


I wake up the next day and turn around, expecting there to be Pat, sitting on a chair beside my bed. But instead, I see a boy with curly brown hair, sleeping beside me. I smile and yawn. I poke him on his cheek. "Wake up, sleepy head."

He groans and grabs a pillow, hiding his face with it. "Just 5 more minutes."

I chuckle and shake him slightly. "C'mon, Harry, get up," I say, still shaking him.

He groans again and turns around, looking at me. "What?" he mumbles sleepily. I see him smile slightly even though his tone isn't exactly happy.

"I want you to wake up," I tell him, laying my head back down on the pillow. I look at him and pout.

"Why?" he asks me, kind of whining.

"I don't want to be the only one up," I told him truthfully. I used to alway hate being the only one up in the house. I felt as if I wasn't safe enough. I also just hated being alone.

He chuckles and shakes his head. "Okay, fine," he mumbles. "I'm up now anyways."

And we just laid there for about an hour, talking about random things. We laughed and told each other a few things about each other. We ended up realizing; we're into the same things. We're totally alike. Weird.

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