The event changed everything, but a story can’t have a central theme unless there are walls to support it, roads that take you there and on, because I can’t just give you a fact and you understand it fully until I explain it. So here it is; I love Harry Styles, but the roads that I take you on to understand may not be one’s that you really want to travel, so heed the signs on the barren roadsides, and understand. I’ll tell you about the days, thirty before and thirty after, encompassing Harry’s attempted suicide.


22. 14 days before


Harry is hesitant to take the pills, again becoming the untrusting wounded animal.

"Will they even work?" he asks, sounding tired in a way that makes ME feel depressed

"We can try Hazz! that's the point now come on!" His eyes focus on the bottle unhappily.

"Doc says they would make me hungry and tired at the SAME time,"  he says when he is finished with a lengthy yawn. "they'll make me fat before long."

Taking them from me grudgingly, he shakes out the amount needed before shoving the bottle back to me.

"But i bet that was your plan all along. Get Harry fat."

I am almost unable to form an answer around the shock of the attempted joke, but i do manage to stutter out "y-yes. y-you caught me."

Cracking the lightest of smiles, he knocks the pills back dry before snatching the remote and turning it to a music channel for him to fall asleep to.

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