One Direction Imagines :)

You self harm

Harry: You sat on the toilet seat, staring at the shard of glass in your hand. Thoughts conflicted, you closed your eyes before you could change your mind. The glass cut so easily at your skin, like paper and scissors. As the blood began to dot on the surface on your skin, you felt so calm and happy. One question began to run in your head. Why? Why did this make you happy? Why? Your racing thoughts were interrupted by the door to the bathroom opening. Before you could even see who was there, you were engulfed in a hug. “(Y/N), you could have told me. If you don’t want to talk about it now, it’s okay. But I’ll always be here for you.” You could only manage a nod, not even wondering how he got in your flat. 

Liam: You sat on the couch laughing, as Liam tickled you. As he neared your stomach, you abruptly sat up. Quickly pulling your shirt down, before he could see it all. All the pain etched in your skin, all the hideous hate you sent yourself, all the fights, all sadness. He sent you a questioning look. Slowly moving towards you like a wounded animal, Liam grabbed your wrists. Strongly but gently. “Baby, what are you hiding,” he asked with a large amount caution. You knew what was coming after this. Pity. Guilt. Pain. You had been through this so many times. Your body reacted on it’s own. Your hands were lifting the fabric which protected you from judgement. “(Y/N) I would never.. never..” he was lost for words. You nodded as you let your hands drop to your side and finally allow all the tears to come out.

Louis: Staring at your wrists, you felt ashamed Louis was here. He was digging around in the kitchen cabinet for another roll of bandages. How could you be stupid? You should’ve known that staying for the night would’ve ended like this. But deep down you felt a little relieved. Now you didn’t have to tell him yourself, but was that better or worse? “Found them, sweetie. Don’t want your pretty skin getting hurt anymore,”  Louis tried in a joke. He sighed and walked over to you.  You expected a lecture, an ultimatum or maybe a simple goodbye. All you heard was his breath as he tried to wrap up your cuts. You looked up and opened your mouth to say sorry but you were cut off by a pair of lips. As he pulled away, he whispered “no need to say anything until you’re ready.”

Niall: You sat in the bathroom, sprawled on the floor, holding your razor like it was your last chance. You smiled bitterly as you realized it may as well be. Pulling down your jeans, you pulled the razor up and down in methodical lines. The blood rose up to the surface, like little splats of paint on your skin. You stared at the blood for a few more moments, before wiping up the blood with the towel. Throwing the towel back on the stand, you pulled up your pants and left the bathroom. Soon after your boyfriend Niall came over and needed the bathroom. You had forgotten about the towel so when he appeared holding it, you were too surprised to lie. “I cut Ni, I cut, hahaha,” you started laughing before crying and falling into his arms, feeling safe.

Zayn: You stood in the kitchen trying to pull the chicken out of oven. “SHIT!” You scream as you burn yourself not that wasn’t what you wanted. You stared at the growing collection of burns, scars and bruises all supposedly caused by household tasks. It wouldn’t be soon before someone found out but how else could you get all the pain out? You felt a pair eyes burning holes in the back of your head and turned to see your boyfriend Zayn burning with rage. “You need something babe,” you asked hesitantly. Instead of responding he tossed your phone towards you. As you looked at the screen, you saw the text messages you were sending your friend the night before.