One Direction Preferences

#3 - He finds out you cut. - Part 1

*TRIGGER WARNING: Do not read if you are triggered by and/or sensitive to self harm.

Harry:

You stare into your bathroom mirror, mentally pointing out every flaw you could. Completely hating yourself. Nothing was right. Every time you blinked you saw another imperfection. Maybe your nose was too big, or your thighs were too fat.

"They hate you, the fans. They call you ugly, because you are. You're just a fat, ugly, worthless freak." You say aloud to your reflection.

You see the razor and think that's its your only escape. The only way to let your feelings out.

You grab it, and press it to your arm. It's cold, and you take a deep breath before you begin to take out all of your anger on your body. You slowly draw a line across your wrist, bright red blood, dripping everywhere. A wave of relief goes over you, but once you started you couldn't stop. Another line, you drew on your arm. Followed by another long line. Your tears and blood mix in the sink. Suddenly, the door knob starts wiggling. "(Y/N)?" It's Harry, your boyfriend. As fast as you can, you hide the razor and wipe the blood off your arm, getting as much as you can. It hurts. The scars from the fans hurt even more than the scars you drew on your arm.You throw the stained towel in the shower. "Just a minute, babe!" You call.

"Let me in, what's wrong?" Harry wiggles the door knob some more.

"Nothing, I'm just getting dressed!" You pull the sleeves of your hoodie down so that they cover up your scars. You open the door, and walk out, trying to hide your wrist as much as possible without making it look suspicious.

Harry doesn't notice and goes into the bathroom. You can hear his gasp echo, bouncing off the tiles. "Why is there blood in the sink?" His eyes, usually bright and happy, are now dark and concerned, lifeless.

"I-I had a nose bleed." You come up with the excuse and remove your hands from behind your back but make sure to keep the sleeve of your sweater down over your wounds.

"Well, then, why is there a bloody razor on the floor?" He bends down to pick it up with two fingers.

"I don't know..." You try to run off and change the subject but Harry grabs your arm as you try to leave, and makes you flinch and jerk your arm away. "Ow!" You blurt.

Harry stares at you, right at your eyes. He continues to stare at you while he lifts up your sleeve.

You try to look at anything but his face because seeing him finally see what you've been doing for years was unbearable.

"Why?" Was all he could say. You're relieved  because you thought he was going to yell at you for hurting yourself.

You broke down into tears instantly.

"The fans. They tweet, they comment, they DM. They won't stop the hate. I wake up everyday and go on my phone just to see everyone telling me how worthless I am. And I ask that same question to myself. Why do I do it to myself? I don't know. Everyone hates me. End of story." Your eyes are glued to your cuts. You're so uncomfortable because you can feel Harry's eyes examining you intensely.

"How long has this been going on, and why didn't you tell me?" He was sounding like a psychiatrist.

"Ever since we started dating and because that would just make things worse. Everyone has an escape and mine just happens to be hurting myself."

Harry wipes away your tears with his thumbs, and forces you to look at him by gently pushing up your chin.

"Listen to me, [Y/N]. You are perfect to me. Don't let anyone tell you different. Every one has flaws, and we all have that one thing we hate about ourself, but please don't damage your beautiful body. It's not worth it," he holds your hand and brings it up to his mouth.

"I love you." He whispers against your scars before kissing them, one by one. You smile through the tears.

"I love you too, Haz."

"Now, you have to promise me that you'll never, ever, EVER, cut your gorgeous self again, okay, love?"

"Okay," you mumble.

"Pinky promise?" He holds up his pinky.

"Pinky promise." You lock pinkys with him and each of you kiss your knuckles.

He kisses you on the lips and later wraps your arm in a bandage, and signs it: I love you, so please don't take this bandage off and hurt yourself. Love, Harry. xxx