LOST AND STILL FINDING(larry stylinson)

Harry's pov


I never would hurt him and never really want to even if its unintentional.


The fact that last night he mentioned about trusting him with the stitch dressing made me really think my issues. I could have and I should have asked and not stopped him when he was helping me. I told him I would do it myself because I didn’t want to trouble him. But he was hurt a little that I didn’t ask for his help when I could have.


I don’t know what to really do. Because once I'm like I would just maintain space with him and not lead him on with things which I will never be able to provide him and another minute all I'm thinking about is drowning all of myself into him just spending my whole life in his arms kissing him and doing things he wants me to and I want to and take care of him all my life. Its just frustrating that I cant keep up with my thoughts.


The disease I've got is never going to be cured no matter how many times I try. Not anytime. No matter how many times I get myself treated. Its not going to help.

Yes. I know it’s a disease. Its been three—more than three fucking years and I'm still stuck with it. Its just not a tune which gets stuck in your head on repeat or a lyric of a song that you can't remember or you cant scratch your back at the same spot where its itching just because your hand isn't too flexible. It’s a leach stuck to my skin which keeps sucking the life out of me.


Those screams and the guys giggling and laughing hovering over me is just something which haunts me still. It's just not possible to flush these off. They never go away.


No matter how hard I try I can't get over it. I'm trapped. Its reached a level of impossibleness. I don’t know if that is even a word or that is exactly how I feel. I go insane every time those scenes cross my head. Its just like they're every minute flashing in front of my eyes. Its even there when i close my eyes shut. Only moments when I'm with him make me a human. Only the times when I'm close to him i feel safe and that is the only time I'm not thinking about it. Only the times I'm with him make me think I'm cured and purified and the only thing I want at that moment is him.


But I cant use him as my cure. i cant use him. hes not soap.

I know everybody calls it kiddish and stuff that I'm 21 years old and still stuck with things that happened to me fours years back. What else would you expect?

In the beginning my only cure was loud music, alcohol and boys and girls too. The simplest way for which I could go. What else ? no matter how cliché and sad and depressing it sounds it’s the best cure. I know it. I promised myself I'd never do drugs and that's why I guess I'm still here thinking this shit over and over again.


But then my health went down. The doctor strictly kept me on attention. That means I was provided a nurse. But then my sister didn't like that and she stayed. I got better again. It was fine then. I found a new cure for my incurable disease.


Novels, Poetry and Music.
I thought what my life was without all of it. It was like I was missing such a pleasurable part of my life.


I read quotations from books I never read and I got what I needed. A satisfaction that there a strangers living about 70000 miles away from me and understood and really cared about other people and really had great thoughts and actually had put them to paper.


I started reading books. They were a better cure and I regretted why I didn’t find it before. I almost bought a dozen of poetry books each month.
i started with the basic poets i knew and was taught about in high school.


I went to the library once and got mesmerized the very first poem I read, it wasn’t a poem maybe it was a quote or just somebody's thought but i like to call it a poem.


It wasn’t by a famous poet, maybe somebody left it there. It was a piece of paper kept folded between a Charles Bukowski book from the 4th edition.


I still remember the lines it said and believe me it was the only thing I guess I'd read was so beautiful after I had left uni.


“if you want to kill yourself, kill want you don’t like. I had an old self that I killed. You can kill yourself too, but that doesn’t mean you got to stop living”


Maybe this was the only thing that wanted me to stay alive and it helped me.


It helped like a hot iron on a crease.


Another one I remember.
“I don’t believe that life is supposed to make you feel good, or make you feel miserable either. Life is just supposed to make you feel”


Maybe these were lines the person who left it there belonged to themselves or were just copied from a famous writer. But I was mesmerized by the fact that so many people had common thoughts and it made us a community.


And that’s when I finally started not giving up on life and beginning a new start.


“gudmorning” I hear a raspy yet sweet voice tucked warmly beside me as it nuzzled into me more and more.


“gudmorning” I reply back looking down at the boy clinged onto me his eyelashes fanning his skin. I kiss his forehead lightly and he nuzzles in more breathing against my neck.


What else do you need? When you have somebody touching you like you’re all to him and he's all to you.


And when he's the only one who decided to touch you without gloves.


His fingers play with my hair as his arm is wrapped around my neck. His eyes are still closed. But I can't stop staring at the beauty in front of me. The way he's lying lazily deep breathing against my face his soft thin pink lips an inch away from mine. Every time my body shook a little with what he's doing to me his hold gets tighter and im pulling in more.


His eyelashes battle and he slowly opens his meeting mine as I slowly shift my gaze from his lips to his tiny nose to his eyes.


He shifts lower into the duvet the cold air trying to hit him.


“how long have you been awake?” he speaks looking up from my chest.


“an hour or so?” I say quite unsure how much time I utilized staring at the pretty boy in front of me.


“what time is it?” he yawns cutely his nose cringing and eyes crinkling at the corner and he doesn't remove his hand to cover his mouth.


“don’t know” I shrug looking down at him as he purses his lips. “maybe 10 or 11?”


“its 11?” he looks up snapping his neck


“it’s a Saturday” I move my arm up from his waist under his t-shirt.


“we have to get my car today, remember?” he reminds me.


Oh fuck I totally forgot about that. It's been over a week I guess. I think Louis felt my body tensed a little because his hold went tight again.


”we’ll get it today” I pat his back and he smiles lightly.


“do you think Gemma would be up by now?” he asks me unsure.


“definitely. She's a hen. She gets up max by 5:45 in the morning” I say making Louis chuckle.


“thats a cock mr styles” he corrects me. The way he calls me Mr styles is enough to make my whole day.


“no it’s the hen. It’s the mother who gets up first” I say sure.


“you didn’t go to uni so shut up”


“that’s taught in like 2nd standard”


“shut up ”

“ok” I smile hugging him in. we stay like that. I cant believe the things im feeling right now. its unbelievable. I have my whole world wrapped around my arms. And I guess its having another round of sleep there.


There's a knock at the door before it opens. Its Gemma. I know when she walks in.


The smell of freshly cooked eggs and coffee and bacon and tea fills the room as she walks beside the bed.


“I got breakfast, get up both of you" she says and I can already picture her smiling.


“gudmorning” I say as I shift turning on my back and Louis loosens his grip.


“gudmoring gemma” Louis sits up his hair all ruffled and sitting there trying to open his eyes but they're just against him today.



I shift up too and I feel less pain in the stitch area. Its healing. Louis’ skin glows and look better from before as the sunlight falling on the back of the bed reflects on his skin.


“finish this up” she commands but she is in a hurry. She's dressed in formal coat and pants and flats. Her hair is tucked behind her ears. She keeps the tray at the end of the bed.


“where you going?” I ask her and she's shuffling through my drawers finding the pack of medicines.


“I have an interview”


“its a Saturday” I inform her but she's busy reading the prescription.


“who says no interviews on Saturday?” she looks at me and then at Louis whose almost sitting there drooling sleeping again. I shake him a little and his eyes flutter open.


“pass me my plate” he groans and I do so.


“have these after the food and then the same dose at 3, ok?”


“ yeah. Done”


“this ones yours. These are louis’. Don’t mix them up and please have them ok? Don't forget"


“never! all the best though" I wish her and open my arms for her to hug me and she does and I place a soft kiss for goodluck on her cheek.



“ok now bye. “ she waves and we both wave back and Louis mumbles through the food stuffed
in his mouth ” bye” that is the sweetest sound I've heard.

Notes

first part of the double update. be a little excited guys...


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lots of love.