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.


4. 29 days before


Harry has taken to sleeping in, but i cant say that there is much difference in him in him, awake or asleep.

The best part about him being asleep is that the childish confusion is drained away and replaced by drowsy contentment.

The worst part is im scared of him waking up to find that i've left him, so i decide to sleep in his room.

At a distance, of course. People learned to approach wounded animals slowly, and thats what Harry had become, through events he refused to even speak of.


29 days before it happened, i awoke in Harry's room, sitting upright in my chair, and i found a blanket over me.

As i moved to the kitchen, i find Harry making breakfast, and whistling.

Eggs sizzle in a pan and, just as i enter, toast springs out from the toaster, the whole smell of the room makes my mouth water.

"good morning!!" harry says, not looking up. "did you sleep well?"

"i slept alright" i answer, taking in the brightness o the kitchen with narrowed eyes, Harry looks nice, a bit of colour returning to his cheeks, and i wonder why he looks so happy and smiley.

I also think that he look particularly adorable with messy hair and baggy pajama pants.

The shirt he is wearing is stretched and stained with paint, it must be an older shirt.


"you can sleep in my bed from now on, you know?" he says, breaking me away from my thoughts, "i hate to think how uncomfortable your chair is!"

When i don't answer him, he continues "i wont bite you! and besides cutting isn't contagious," he tries to joke, waving a hand in the air; his small wrist thoroughly bandaged with white gauze. Shoved over it is his hospital bracelet he was ordered to keep on until they decided to take the stitches out.

The joke falls flat between us and he shifts uncomfortably. I took a deep breath in,"Harry please tell us what happened,thats what friends are for,we want to-"

"no," Harry cuts me off, shaking his head, "I'm sorry, Lou, but its not something i want to talk about anytime soon."

So we didn't.


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