Chapter Thirty Six

Harry stumbled into his dorm room a few hours later, knowing that even if Louis had waited in his room after the fight, he would have left by now.

He took a shaky breath and headed toward his room, freezing by the door when he heard voices.

"Oh my God," he heard someone say- it was an unfamiliar voice to Harry, but it sounded male. He heard muffled laughter, and he was about to open the door when he heard. "Your roommate wears these?"

More laughing.

There had to be at least four guys in his room. He heard his roommate's voice now, and Harry's heart was racing as he inched closer to the door to hear them.

"I'm telling you, they're his, man... I mean, it's not like he has a girlfriend. And I mean, come on, he even wears makeup." More laughing.

"Fuck, how did you end up with the freak-show roommate?"

Harry opened the door to his room, and saw his roommate, surrounded by four of his friends, some of them still laughing, and one of them holding a pair of Harry's panties between his thumb and pointer finger like they were too disgusting to touch. But they were clean, they were in Harry's drawer.

Harry's heart slammed against his rib cage when he saw the pair the boy was holding.

The green lace pair.

I just thought they were, you know... festive...

...I want to show you how much I like my gift...

Good boy...

"Give that back," Harry said, his voice steady as he locked eyes with the boy that was holding onto the pair of panties.

The boy tossed them into Harry's hands, and all the guys in the room fell silent. Harry snatched his favourite clothing items from his drawer, his school books, and his necessary toiletries, stuffing them into a small duffel bag before zipping it up and looking over at his roommate.

"Don't you ever go through my stuff again," Harry warned.

His roommate mumbled something about 'we were just messing around' but Harry had slammed the door before he could hear the whole halfhearted explanation.

He made it about halfway to the bus stop before he broke down. He slipped behind a quiet building, sitting down on a park bench and fumbling out his phone.

"I need-" he gasped. "Need you, please come." he sniffled, and wiped at his nose with the sleeve of his flannel. "I don't know," he moaned, shaking his leg up and down. "Behind Benton Hall I, I think, you know which building that is? I don't know I'm on a bench," he said, and he couldn't get out any coherent words after that so he hung up the phone and hugged his knees to his chest.

And people walked by and some people stared, and God, he was still clutching onto that green pair of undies but at college everyone seemed to mind their own business. He knew he'd been sitting there for at least fifteen minutes since the call ended but he still held his phone in his hand like he'd just hung up.

A pair of strong arms wound around him.

"Right here," he heard- soothing, soft, but trying to tug him up from the bench. Familiar cologne. "Let's get you somewhere comfy. Make you some tea? Run you a bath?"

"Wanna stay here," Harry grumbled, but he was gently tugged up and lead toward the parking lot. Warm hands.

"You can't just live on a park bench, H."

Maybe Harry wasn't thinking clearly, but in that moment he probably could. There was no where else he wanted to be.

Harry didn't reply, until he felt the pair of panties being pulled from his tight grip. "Don't!" he cried. "They're mine!"

"People are staring, H."

Harry tried to rub the tears out of his eyes, but everything was still blurry and out of focus. He tried to focus in on the voice that was talking to him.

"Niall," Harry moaned. "I fucked everything up. I fucked it up really bad and I don't know what to do. Don't know what to do anymore."

"Oh, Harry... it's okay, just get in the car," Niall said, opening the door and helping Harry in, buckling him into the passenger seat, tossing his hastily packed overnight bag in the backseat.

Harry whimpered a little bit as they drove, trying to stifle his sobs into his flannel sleeves.

"Shhhh..." Niall murmured, reaching over at a red light to rub Harry's thigh comfortingly. "I'm right here okay? We're only five minutes away, and you can tell me everything, I'll help you fix it alright? I'm sure it's not anything we can't work through together."

Harry hiccuped softly and nodded. Everything felt hazy but it wasn't the soft hazy that it used to feel like when he was with-

Harry bit the edge of his sleeve.

When things used to fade out like this, when he was with... was with... someone, he felt floaty and disconnected in a sleepy sort of way, like every surface his fingers skimmed was cotton and nothing could hurt him, the full and cozy feeling of warm milk before bedtime, curls resting on a plush pillow with freshly washed sheets and butterfly kisses.

This feeling was like every surface was made out of glass splinters, but Harry couldn't see anything. He felt hazy in the same way as when you walk through a haunted house with your eyes closed because you're terrified of everything lurking in the dark, knowing something's there but not able to grasp at the shapes in the dark until it's entirely too late.

Harry reached between the dips of his collarbones for his swallow necklace, his fingers brushing smooth pearl skin with nothing on it but ink.

"We're not together anymore," Harry whispered.

Niall pulled into the driveway and Harry's heart rate felt like it was slowing to a stop as well.

"Harry, I'm so so sorry, what do you need?" Niall asked, putting the car in park and quickly hopping out to help Harry unbuckle and get out of the car.

"Need Advil," Harry whimpered, "Head hurts."

"I'm sure it does, H." Niall said, rubbing Harry's leg gently with one hand as he tried to unbuckle his seat belt with the other.

"And, and pet names," Harry mumbled, his voice muffled as he chewed on his sleeve.

Niall looked at him with concern, but said, "Of course, hunny," before pulling Harry out of the car and into a hug. Familiar arms.

"I miss myself," Harry said, he was trembling. Niall's shoulder was comfy and Harry's eyes were closed as he nuzzled into the crook of Niall's neck.

"You're still right here, lovey," Niall said, Niall was grounded, Niall had roots, Harry was still trembling.

"No I'm not," he whined, and Niall practically had to carry him into the house because Harry's body was in little fragments, and he was missing too many pieces to function properly.

"You're right here with me," Niall said in a steady voice, holding Harry upright as he slumped against his shoulder.

But Harry wasn't.

He was in the elevator with Louis, talking about simple things, names and majors and school clubs, and Louis was holding his suitcase and Harry should have broken up with Cameron that night because he knew that moment his veins changed colours, his heart switched tempos and nothing was the same. And Love at First Sight was complete bullshit until suddenly it was three in the morning and you were drowning in thoughts of the cute boy down the hall.

He was in the cafe, Louis was dragging him up onstage-up for it Harold?- and shortcuts to get back home afterward. Liam had ordered him a coffee and Louis had looked at Harry that night like the whole universe was contained in his green irises, his petal pink lips.

He was pressed up against the kitchen counter, first kisses, and Louis tasted a little bit like cherries, and they were in a stranger's pool, giggling against each other's skin and it was probably too soon for a first kiss but once the first one was done all Harry cared about was a second... third... fourth...

I love you. So fucking much, I just, I needed to say it, but it's okay if you don't.

"Hey, it's okay, you're right here with me, love," Niall said. Harry didn't realize how tight he was gripping onto Niall's hand but they were in Niall's room now, and he was saying something about a therapist but Harry slipped under the covers to try and drown it out. His thoughts couldn't be muffled by the blanket though and he held Niall's hand so tight he thought he might break it.