The next few hours is a blur. Louis does spend his afternoon in the nurse's office, staring at the tiles. His head is swimming in a daze, and he doesn't feel like he's in his own body. People's voices were basically inaudible, and Louis' body was numb. This feeling was triggered once Louis had realized Liam's blood was smeared on his hands. Liam was okay and didn't have any broken bones, which was the main priority in Louis' eyes but he was still concerned. By the time the school day had come to a close, Louis spent almost half an hour in his office staring at his desk, with the unsettling feeling of nausea building in the pits of his stomach. He's barely even realizes Harry when he walks in. It's when he clears his voice loudly, that Louis is snapped back to reality and is looking at Harry through dead eyes.

"I thought I'd come and say thanks again for looking after Liam," Harry runs a hand through his hair, awkwardly.

"You don't need to thank me. He was hurt, I did the same for you as well. Physical abuse is something I will never stand for,"

"Is he okay? I just went to the nurse's office to see how he was doing, but she said he had just gotten picked up by his mum,"

Louis grits his teeth and breathes heavily trying to keep himself in check. This unsettling feeling was getting worse, and he knows if he doesn't get out of this environment right now, he will either pass out or vomit.

"Yeah, yeah. He's fine. Nothing's broken and the nurse cleaned up all the blood. He will probably just look really messed up for the next couple weeks. I believe he will look worse than you though," Louis tries not to smirk as Harry's face deflates

"Yeah alright. Those bruises didn't last long, okay? It was one hit. I would rather talk about anything but that. This is about Liam right now,"

"I've just told you everything I know. Shouldn't you be going somewhere, like home?" Louis glares at the boy

Harry just stares back, his face soft and it's like he's completely ignoring Louis' bad mood just to piss him off more. Louis uses one hand to tightly grip his desk, and he swears if he grips it any harder, his nails will leave indents in it.

"I just...I don't know. I guess I was wondering what is going to happen with Zayn?"

"I will need to talk to the principal to see if I am able to get him removed from my class. There may not be any other subjects available on this line,"

"Art," Harry replies nonchalantly

"You left that subject for drama didn't you?" Louis hums to himself, his brain whirring

"Yeah. There might be a spot there for him. He'd probably do swimmingly," Harry shrugs

"Well. I'll look into that. Thanks Harry,"

Louis looks back down at his desk. The number of papers are now starting to stack up, and he knows there isn't a way in hell he will get this done if Harry doesn't leave. Between Harry always being annoying and showing up and Eleanor trying to work things out every second of the day, Louis barely has a second to think let alone mark.

"Is there anything else? I need to mark and I'm quite ill right now," Louis swallows, looking up at Harry and frowning when he realizes Harry has taken a seat

The boy looks nervous slightly, and Louis realizes the kid is sweating slightly on the forehead. His skin is paler than usual, and his shoulders seem tense. Harry runs a hand through his hair again, and Louis thinks that this is a nervous habit of his.

"Are you quite alright?" Louis stares

"Yeah. I..I just need to talk to you about some stuff. I know you're probably not the person to be talking to about it, but I feel like I trust you over any other teachers here. I don't know why," Harry swallows

Louis is more than mildly concerned now, because he knows that Harry wouldn't ever open up to Louis even if Louis were the last person alive. Louis didn't want Harry to open up; he couldn't deal with any more emotional stress. He's relapsing, he's sick and if he has to deal with anymore issues he might just go mad.

"What?" Louis stammers

"You were right," Harry speaks fast, almost like he's forced it off his chest as fast as he can. Ripping a band aid off fast is better than slow, it's always less painful.

"About?" Louis raises an eyebrow

"Remember the tutoring session we had, and then you decided you wouldn't tutor me anymore?"

"Yes. I remember it quite clearly," Louis speaks slowly

"You asked if...my...you know...was hurting me. I couldn't open up about it. I'm too scared because I love him and I don't know what will happen without him," Harry's voice is low and quiet with defeat

Everything is starting to slow down. Harry's voice is becoming incoherent, and Louis finds himself zoning out. He's in a state of panic. He doesn't want to hear it, and he won't hear it. He closes his eyes, and clenches his jaw. He tries his hardest to prevent the wave of anxiety that is suddenly washing over him. He can still hear Harry's voice. It sounds so broken and Louis swears if he sees the boy crying when he opens his eyes, he will positively lose his mind. He slowly and cautiously opens his eyes, exhaling long and slow when he realizes Harry isn't crying, however, talking while looking down and fidgeting with his bag.

"I know you probably won't care, and there isn't a lot you can do. It's not like it's my mum and you can help me get taken away and put into care. This is my boyfriend, which I willingly choose to stay with. But how can I stay with someone that assaults-,"

"Stop," Louis shrieks, standing up suddenly

Harry's mouth is still open as if he was going to speak, as he stares at his teacher. The man is positively losing his mind. Louis can already taste the bile in his mouth, it has an unsettling metallic taste, and Louis knows if he doesn't leave the room now, he's going to vomit. But he can't just leave, not with Harry finally opening up about something like this. Louis is shaken, and overall mad. His body is rigid and his jaw is tense as he tries to control his breathing.

"What do you mean assault? Why couldn't you tell me about this when you had all the bruises to prove it? You could- actually, you can get away. Assaulting- I. I don't know what to say Harry. I can't deal with this. I'm not in the right headspace. No. I don't- just keep talking. Just keep the punches rolling," Louis stammers, stutters and repeatedly runs his hands through his hair. He's starting to pace now.

"He hits me," Harry says weakly

"Clearly," Louis shoots back, narrowing his eyes at the boy

"I don't know what else you want me to say. It's what he does. That's what he does," Harry frowns

"No. Why? Why does he hit you? I'm on the actual verge of passing out right now. I feel like shit. Just keep going Harry,"

"I don't feel comfortable disclosing that information. You don't need to know why,"

"I don't need to know why?" Louis suddenly shouts, throwing his arms up.

"Are you going to say that to the police when they ask why? They need to know these things. I need to know. Jesus Christ, you are the most infuriating student I've ever met." Louis huffs

"Fine. But I'm not being held accountable for your reaction," Harry eyes Louis carefully

"What?" Louis stops

"He hits me because I won't..you know..with him,"

"Please...spare me the details. Maybe it is better you didn't tell me. I feel like I'm going to be sick. Christ on a stick. Has he done anything against your will?" Louis dares to ask, his stomach flipping as he speaks.

"Well, the night that he hit me really bad. He lost control and was trying to...and I pushed him off and that's when he hit me. I pushed him off to protect myself and yeah,"

Louis has to massage his temples, and focus on anything in the room but this. There isn't a way in hell he is going to be able to handle this.

"Has he done it before?" He asks, swallowing.

He focuses on a picture of him and Eleanor, which he doesn't know why it's still there. She would never know if it's there or not, and quite frankly, he doesn't want to see her face. He notes to throw it away once this situation has been handled.

"I-Yeah,"

"He's raped you before?!" Louis screams

The sudden urge to wrap his hands around Harry's throat and strangle the living shit out of him for not seeking help sooner overwhelms Louis, so he decides to take action and grab the photo of Eleanor that is taunting him and throwing it in the bin. As funny as it is, it takes some edge off it, but not a lot.

"No! Not at all. He's tried. But never actually successfully. The hitting has happened before, not a lot. But it's happening more frequently,"

"This is so messed up. I don't know what to do. I'm torn between strangling the shit out of you and also vomiting. I'm so disgusted. Why did you tell me? I'm not mentally capable of handling this. Never in my life would I have been capable. There is a guidance officer for this. Fuck. I'm going to be sick. I'm actually going to be sick,"

"Can you just calm down before you give yourself a heart attack. I will get this sorted okay?"

"How? Are you going to the police?" Louis squints

"No. I'm planning on ending the relationship. I need to be happy and need to focus on my grades rather than being assaulted, I just can't do it anymore," Harry's shoulders relax slightly, and the corner of his mouth turns into a sad smile.

"Are you insane? Do you know anything about relationships with domestic violence? You literally cannot just leave! That's just more of a reason for them to hurt you. This is ridiculous. I'm calling the police,"

"Mr Tomlinson," Harry's voice is suddenly loud and firm, causing Louis to stop as he storms his way over to his phone

"What? What else do you want me to do? I am not sitting here and listening to this. I'm not just a big giant emotional sponge that will suck up all this information, and just hold onto it until someone squeezes it out!"

"I know what I'm doing,"

"No. No you don't. You have no idea what you're doing. I know what this is like. You don't understand what can happen to you. You have no way of standing up for yourself and god, if he's doing this to you just because...ugh... I don't even want to think of what he will do if you leave. You know, this is exactly why you should just be single and not worry about a relationship with anyone. It helps a whole lot,"

"That's rich, coming from you," Harry snorts

"Excuse me? I went my entirety of high school without a relationship because, quite frankly, it helped a lot. I'm not going into detail about my life anyway. We're discussing your life, not mine. It's 4 o'clock in the afternoon. I don't have time for this. I have so many assignments to mark, so many task sheets to start printing. I'm never sleeping again. I need coffee," Louis tugs at his hair, for the umpteenth time.

"I wasn't asking for your life story, thank you. This was a mistake. I should have known talking to you wouldn't do anything. You can't even talk to me with respect knowing I'm gay. Who was I to think that you'd care if my boyfriend was assaulting me because I wouldn't have-,"

"Shut up, just shut the bloody hell up," Louis says firmly

Harry shuts his mouth, his lips pressing into a firm line. He wants to leave.

"I swear to god Harry. I'm giving you the chance to do the right thing. But, if you so much come to school with a cut. I will call the police and I will make sure a thorough investigation takes place. I will-,"

"I will do the right thing, just don't worry about it," Harry sighs

-

That night, Louis lays in bed in the comfort of his home. The lamps are turned on and room is glowing an iridescent yellow. The clock reads 11:32pm and there is a pile of marked assessments on the bedside table. It has taken 3 hours just to get to this position, but here he was, reading the very last assessment that was handed in. He didn't need to read the rest to know it was a pass. He quickly wrote the C with a couple of comments before placing it on top of the stack beside him. Louis could barely focus on anything. The anxious edge was taken off once he had taken a small dose of valium before he started marking. However, now it was wearing off and he could feel the anxiety forming. It was barely there, and almost invisible but Louis was so used to this, he could feel anxiety coming from miles away. Throughout tonight, the only thought on his mind was Harry. He didn't want to be thinking about the curly haired boy, but his mind kept wondering about what was happening to him right now, and whether that selfish, bully of a boyfriend was hurting him. If Louis had known where that boy had lived, he would honestly beat him. He would put up a fight, no matter how much shorter he was than the boy. But he promised to put faith into Harry and that's what he was going to do. It was a school night, and tomorrow was the last school day before the weekend and Louis was more than ready for the weekend. His plans consisted of visiting the bar again, and then probably getting hammered. Although, he really didn't feel like being harassed from the psychologist or Eleanor. It was getting tiring. Louis was so unbelievably exhausted, he wasn't getting any sleep and he was starting to get constantly sick.

Eleanor was trying to work it out, but Louis was going to end the relationship. He couldn't handle it anymore. With all his issues coming back to haunt him, a distracting student, assessments and the craving for alcohol, he couldn't balance a needy girlfriend on top. The relationship didn't feel the same way anymore, it just felt like a chore. It made Louis physically sick to even lay next to her in bed sometimes. Louis had to plan the breakup now, because he needs to get out before he has a cataclysmic breakdown. There was one source for all this issue, and Louis doesn't hesitate to point towards Harry. Before Harry joined the class, Louis and Eleanor were great, Louis was happy, stable and was enjoying his life. However, the part where Harry was gay left an inkling of anger. Louis doesn't understand why the anger is there, but psychologically he's built that way. Then when Harry was beaten, every part of Louis that he hated came back full force. The rage, the anxiety, the depression, the lack of sleep, the lack of an appetite and the overwhelming need to drown his sorrows.

Louis considers texting Harry, making sure he's okay. He has the message typed up. He stares at the words, his chest tightening with anxiety.

Harry. Is everything okay? I just need to know if you're safe after everything.

The sudden thought that maybe Harry was injured, and Nick would read it makes Louis backspace the message and close his phone immediately. He wasn't getting any sleep tonight, and if he doesn't get sleep then he'll probably just have yet another day off work. Louis pulls off his glasses and places them on the side dresser and trudges into the bathroom to his medication cabinet. When he opens the door, he looks at the different prescriptions that are all marked with the same Louis William Tomlinson.

There were so many different prescriptions that it made Louis' head spin. There were orange bottles, white bottle, purple and green. The colours all seemed to blend in together the more Louis stared. There was medication for insomnia, depression, anxiety and even a few different types of memory suppressants. Although they didn't do much for Louis.

Diazepam, valium, mirtazapine, Flunitrazepam were a few of the names that stand out in the crowd of others. Louis reaches for valium to help with the anxious edge, and his sleeping medication. He needed a decent sleep and he didn't want to be sitting up all night fighting the urge to sleep because of the anxiety. So here he is, on a Thursday night swallowing a few different pills. This was something he thought he'd never do again, since things had gotten better.

It takes approximately another half an hour before Louis can barely keep his eyes open in the dark of his room. He's almost hidden under his thick blanket, and he can feel himself drooling already. It takes no longer than a minute once the feeling has hit to fall asleep. Louis' dreams were odd tonight. He doesn't dream of streaks of blood, or the sound of glass shattering. He dreams of a broken, scared boy hurt and crying. He dreams of kissing his tear stained cheeks, and holding the boy close. He dreams of an alternative universe where homophobia isn't instilled into his and everyone's mind.