Mood: Mad Hatter by Melanie Martinez

Louis jumped away from Harry as if he was burned, when the door opened. Harry coughed a bit looking away. Louis' mum stood at the doorway smiling.

"Hi boys, just got back from picking your sisters from school. Need anything?" she asks and Louis shakes his head.

"Harry was just leaving. He said..." Louis trailed off staring at the wall.

"Oh? Well you can come over anytime you like, love." Harry nods at her as she walks out.

"Louis..." Harry starts but the smaller boy shakes his head.

"I'll see you out." Louis mumbles walking out the door. Harry sighs, glances at the broken glass from earlier for a second longer, before following Louis downstairs. His parents were talking downstairs and Louis opens the door stepping outside.

"I'm sorry." Harry whispers although he knows he wasn't.

"I've never kissed anyone before. I've never had...the chance. I don't really understand the whole...love...thing. But I do know that if someone is dating someone they shouldn't go around...kissing someone else." Louis explains, wrapping his arms around himself, although the air was stuffy around them. The summer sun was shining on Louis, bringing out a glint in his eyes; turning them from a dull grey-blue to a bright cerulean blue.

"I...shouldn't have done it. I'm sorry." Harry mumbles. Louis nods.

"You should go. Read the um...the book." The boy says before heading back inside without another word. Harry is left standing there for a moment before walking down the porch steps and climbing into his car.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

When Harry reached his house, his dad was gone; of course. He went straight up to his room and turned on his laptop. He opened Google and typed in 'symptoms of schizophrenia' He clicked on the first link.

"Symptoms may include hallucinations, delusions, and disordered thinking.

People may experience

Cognitive: amnesia, belief that an ordinary event has special and personal meaning, belief that thoughts aren't one's own, delusion, disorientation, making things up, memory loss, mental confusion, slowness in activity and thought, thought disorder, or false belief of superiority

Behavioral: aggression, agitation, compulsive behavior, excitability, hostility, hyperactivity, nonsense word repetition, repetitive movements, self-harm, social isolation, disorganized behavior, or lack of restraint

Mood: anger, apathy, excitement, feeling detached from self, general discontent, inability to feel pleasure, elevated mood, or inappropriate emotional response

Psychological: anxiety, depression, fear, hallucination, paranoia, persecutory delusion, religious delusion, hearing voices, or mistrust

Speech: circumstantial speech, incoherent speech, rapid and frenzied speaking, or speech impairment

Also common: fatigue, impaired motor coordination, or lack of emotional response"

Harry stared at the text in disbelief. Most of this didn't apply to Louis. He wasn't apathetic or showed any inappropriate emotional response. If anything, Louis was very emotional. Harry closed the laptop, biting at his thumbnail nervously. He pushed himself away from his desk, standing up. He paced around his room. This was bad. This was so bad. But it felt so right. He liked holding Louis, comforting him in any way he can. And he hated it because he did have a boyfriend. He should feel this way about Nick.

He should be thinking about Nick. But instead he's thinking about Louis. Someone he just met a few weeks ago. He groans and throws himself on his bed.

****

Louis was lying on his bed staring at the ceiling.

"Fucking idiot. Will you never understand that you mean absolutely nothing to him?" Jace asks, crossing his arms. He was leaning against the wall where Louis broke the glass. It was long gone by now, but Louis kept one of the sharpest shards for later use.

"But he...he kissed me." Louis whispers and Jace laughs.

"You call that a kiss? It was nothing. Absolutely nothing." Louis reached up to touch his lips. It wasn't really a kiss. But it was something. Harry's scent lingered in Louis' mind. He smelled like Vanilla and Honeysuckle. Louis sighed closing his eyes. He heard the door open and his mum walked in.

"Louis?"

"Yeah?"

"How do you feel, sweets?"

"Fine." he mutters, trying to smile. He wasn't on the best terms with his parents right now. But he pretended to love them just as he did before they sent him to the hospital. He knew all they were trying to do was help but...they just...made everything worse.

His mum stares at him for a few seconds before sighing.

"So, that Harry boy, is he nice to you?" she asks and Louis nods. He didn't want to talk about him. He didn't want to talk about anything right now.

"He seems like a good boy." she hums, patting Louis' thigh. He has to stop himself from flinching.

"Well, I'm gonna start making dinner. Clean yourself up and come downstairs." Louis nods and watches as his mum leaves. Jace was snickering.

"You know, that shard of glass seems real pretty right about now." Louis stands up without another word before heading to his drawer. He opens it and grabs the shard of glass, pocketing it; before walking into the bathroom. He stares at his medicines. He turns on the shower and discards his clothing. He steps into the warm water, letting the muscles in his back loosen.

After a few minutes he brings the shard to his thigh, slicing it quickly. He lets out a small cry, leaning against the shower wall. He takes a deep breath before doing it again. And again. And again. Until he had at least six cuts on each thigh.

The blood ran down his legs, turning the water pink. The cuts were so deep, oh god so deep. Louis had to hold on to the slippery wall to keep himself from falling. His breath was becoming heavy, vision becoming blurred.

"Fuck." he mumbles, turning off the shower and stepping out. He puts on a pair of sweats and a loose shirt before stumbling into the hall. He could hear his family laughing downstairs, but Louis made his way to his bedroom. His head was pounding, his hands were shaking.

He hoped his mum would come check on him and think he was sleeping. The blood stopped seeping out of his thighs, but Louis still felt weak. His feet could barely drag him into his bedroom. He closed the door, leaning against it for a few seconds. His room started tilting sideways.

He barely made it to his bed before he passed out.

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