love, cheater ➳ ziam au

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|seven|

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Dear Liam Malik-Payne,

Hey, lovely, it's been a week, hasn't it? I'm so sorry I haven't sent you a letter for so long! And I was going to visit you, right? But then Harry and I had a serious talk and he told me that you needed to heal, and that I should wait for a little longer, so I agreed, because as I promised, I can and I will, buy you the entire world, but all you ask for is time. And as I slowly progress with all these letters I'm finding out tiny little details I love about you. Gosh, you could have me begging on my knees in front of you, you could make me watch you and, God forbid, another man in a fond embrace, you could scream how much you hate me at my face. But you aren't, because you're just so f ucking damn perfect. And all you ask for is time, so who am I to strip you away from such a lovely yet horrendous thing?

Speaking of Harry, he told me that you wanted him to stay back to look after me. How thoughtful of you, lovely. How can you be so kind and caring to me? After what I have done to you? After I basically ignored you for a year and then went behind you for another man. How could you still be so loving and so caring and so perfect? I ditched you for our anniversary, for your birthday, for Louis' birthday, wasn't there for you when your father passed away. And on top of all of that, I never supplied you with any money, I spent all of my income on alcohol, and buying lavish suites for Niall and I to shag in. You had a fussy toddler, a cheating, drunk husband, a hectic job for you to pay for the bills and such, and I was merely a few miles away shagging someone who wasn't my husband, who wasn't the love of my life.

But. You. Stayed.

And you cared. You still care enough for leaving your best friend to carter to my needs instead of your own, even though you are more broken than me. I merely have a huge crack in my heart, sure it's rubbing into pieces, but what about you? How can I even think you aren't more broken than me? Because even if my heart is slowly grinding into dust, your heart had been going through the same process for a year. Who knows, the pieces might even have dissolved into your tears and the blood from your wrists you shed for me.

I can't do this anymore, Liam, I can't. I can't, I can't, I can't, I can't. Not without you by my side, at least. 

I love you, baby, more than you can possibly think. If I would have to pour thousands of gallons of my love into one jar, the world wouldn't be big enough to store all of the jars. I love you.

I love your smile. I love your laugh. I love your eyes. I love your hands. I love your hair. I love the little stubble on your chin and cheeks. I love the dimples on the bottom of your spine. I love your legs that were often wrapped around my waist. I love your arms that would encircle my neck when we kissed. I love your personality. I love how you handle Louis, our little bundle of joy. I love how you can be loving and caring to those who stabbed you again and again, just to show them what love truly is. I love how you are so patient. I just love you, overall, and no matter what it takes, Liam, I will have you back, securely in my arms, in our room, in our little home.

Right where you belong.

Love,

Cheater

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So basically, I went through my first even phase of writer's block and it was HORRIBLE ew.

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~Harry