Union J Preferences [from tumblr]

Preference #33: He Finds Out You Cut.

George:

He didn’t mean to go through your stuff. He never wanted to have his trust in you questioned. But he had to know. He didn’t want to believe what he saw. The fading scars on your thighs that you’ve been hiding so well. Until last night. You didn’t even notice the sudden change in his mood. You didn’t notice the lust leaving his eyes, shock, desperation and pain following. You didn’t notice the unusually tight grip around your waist when you let sleep cloud your mind. But he stayed awake, the upsetting thoughts not allowing him to find peace in dreamland. He wanted to find proof. Not to make sure you harm yourself, only to make sure he’d made the wrong assumption. But now, as he’s sitting half-buried in a pile of your clothes, he knows he hast to admit that the love of his life has been hurting and he never noticed. With your blade in his hand, your diary opened at the last broken page and tears dampening his cheeks he waits for you to get home. And when you do, he’ll be so sure when looking into your eyes, he’ll be so understanding, so careful not to break you. He’ll be so determined to fix you.

Josh:

He’s at a friend’s party and he’s totally wasted. He’s been looking for the bathroom for more than 30 minutes, but he found nothing else but half-naked couples getting it on. “Next door on the left, dude.” A random guy tells him. He mumbles a quick thank you, before rushing to the door he’s been directed to. He’s so drunk he doesn’t even think that the lights turned on in the room could mean that someone’s in there. He bursts into the room and closes the door before a high-pitched gasp makes him turn around. His eyes widen at what’s in front of him. He sees a beautiful girl with her beautiful eyes wide, her once beautiful mascara now all over her beautiful cheeks. She has her arms behind her back, trying so hard to hide something. Just as he’s about to apologize, his gaze drops to the floor, where the blood from your hidden wrist has piled up. Neither of you say a word, neither of you move. His eyes then study your face, then the bloody sink and now he remembers. He remembers entering the party and spotting you. He remembers the air hitching in his throat as your eyes met and he remembers how his heart skipped a beat as you smiled shyly with a light blush on your cheeks. He remembers being dragged away by friends and before getting his vision blurry, he remembers seeing you surrounded by a group of girls, your eyes so sad as their mouths moved. He remembers wanting to go there and the last thing he remembers is another glass of beer. “Could you…leave, please?” Your broken voice hits his ears. You feel so uncomfortable, feel so naked now that your secret is out. “No.” His answer is simple, his voice suddenly very sober. He’s no longer paralyzed, he moves one leg after the other, until he reaches you. He doesn’t say a word as he cleans your cut, mumbling a low sorry as you wince in pain. After he’s done, he cleans up your blood, but still stays silent. You don’t want to leave, feeling obligated to say thank you, but you’re afraid of breaking the silence. Afraid of the consequences it could bring. And he doesn’t know what to say, either. He’s done cleaning you and the place up, so he’s just staring at you. He’s staring and suddenly he feels brave enough to close the space between you two, to pull you against his warm chest and keep you there. “You deserve so much better.” With that, everything that was somewhat stable inside of you got destroyed, with heartbreaking sobs you bury your face in his warm and strong chest, with his shirt clutched in your small hands you pull yourself closer to this stranger who’s so warm and smells so nice. And his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you closer and keeping you there. Because he doesn’t want to let go either. 

JJ:

You’re not yet an item, but it’s a fact known by everyone that you two fancy each other. You’ve been going out on dates, spending long hours together and just as it is right now, talking on the phone in the late hours of the night. You’re both laying in bed, unable to hang up even though you can barely keep your eyes open and he has work early in the morning. “And that is how I ended up hiding in the closet during my cousin’s birthday.” You chuckle at the story he’d been keeping to himself, being ashamed of the events of that night, Something warm and fuzzy fills your heart and spreads through your body as you slowly understand how hard it was for him to talk about it and the small number of people knowing about it. You know it’s another level you’ve just reached and you know that now you have to be honest with him as well. Just by this thought your throat gets dry and a know begins to form there. “It’s your turn to tell me your darkest secret.” He jokes, not knowing how much the word ‘dark’ fits your case. The silence coming through the phone doesn’t go unnoticed by him. “Come on! I told you mine! It’s not that hard, trust me. Besides, you couldn’t have made a bigger fool of yourself than I have.” “I…My secret is that…” You tear up as you struggle with the words, with the secret that you’ve been so careful with. Making sure no one knew about it, sparing yourself of the judgement you expected from people. But deep inside you have hope. Hope that JJ’s different. That he might be that someone who you can finally talk to. You want that someone, so you just blurt out the word. “I cut myself.” The line goes silent again, so silent you can’t even hear him breathing. You bite down on your lip, trying so hard to keep in the sobs that are so likely to come out through your mouth. You just wait and wait form him to say something, but nothing can be heard. “I…” you start but you don’t know what to say, so you just try to muffle your cries with your pillow. But he hears them. He hears every pain filled sob, each tearing his heart into little pieces but he just can’t get the words to come out. It’s like he’s lost his voice. He can’t understand how it’s possible that the beautiful girl who was so cheerful just a few minutes ago and whose laughter is so beautiful has a secret like this.  He doesn’t know but he wants to find out. He hangs up, but not before rushing for his clothes, a short sentence leaving his lips and giving you hope: “I’m coming over.”

Jaymi:

The week is finally over so he has a little time to lay down and close his eyes, immediately feeling emptiness. It doesn’t take him very long think through the week and notice that you’ve been very distant, barely calling and never visiting. He makes up his mind and gets in his car, driving over to your place. It’s not a long way, but it takes him an eternity getting from the beginning of the street to your house, curious people everywhere, trying to see what’s happening. He gets out of his car when people in uniforms tell him he can’t go farther with it and looks around, getting worried. Some people are whispering to each other, some are shocked, some tears are shed and that view doesn’t help the bed feeling in the pit of him stomach. He now runs to your house, wanting nothing else, only to know you’re okay, but you’re not. He falls to his knees as he gets a look at your open door, two men carrying your unconscious body on a barrow, an ambulance making such a loud noise it makes Jaymi sick. Or maybe seeing you like this what makes him dizzy. He sees them put you in the back and race to the hospital. He takes one more minute to pull himself together, to wipe his tears away and rush to you. He runs into the building, attacking the first nurse he can find. “I’m looking for Y/N. Y/F/N. They…they just brought…the ambulance. Please! Where can I find Y/N?” The nurse’s annoyed look softens as she sees the desperation in his eyes. She tells him the number of your room, giving him a small smile before he disappears. You’re sleeping peacefully with machines watching over your heartbeat, with an infusion attached to your vein and a think bandage around your wrist. He doesn’t need to ask questions. He understands now what’s going on. He wants to be strong for you, but he’s weak. He’s still a sobbing mess when you open your tires eyes, unable to look at him after what you’ve done. But he doesn’t care, he doesn’t blame you,he just kisses your fingers and whispers something you’ve never heard from him before. “I love you.”