I'll help you through it

NIALL'S POV

"Hi Mrs. (Y/L/N), is (Y/N) here?" I said politely as (Y/N)'s mother opened their front door. She gave me a small smile and sighed.

"Sorry, Niall. She's not here at the moment, but she'll be here in about ten minutes though." Mrs. (Y/L/N) gestured me to enter the home. "You can wait in her room if you want."

"Alright. Thanks." I nodded and proceeded upstairs to her room. I opened her bedroom door and was greeted by that familiar scent of vanilla. (Y/N) had an odd habit of placing vanilla-scented candles around her room, but those are one of the littlest quirks I loved about her. Plus, it made the room more romantic, which made times with her in this room even better.

I browsed around her room, looking at every detail of it. Her bedroom walls were filled with posters of celebrities and her desk was incredibly messy. Chuckling to myself, I walked to her desk and ran my fingers through whatever was on it. Her laptop, papers, notebooks, writing materials and random objects; her desk was a dump! I don't think she keeps any secretive stuff hidden in her desk, so I carried on to her desk's drawer. As I opened it, there were nothing but old papers, little knick-knacks and bread crumbs. I was right; there was nothing to worry about.

But then I was proved wrong in an instant.

As I moved aside papers, my eyes widened as I revealed a small blade drenched in blood. My heart stopped for a second as I held the blade with my shivering hands. A whole ball of questions and thoughts raced through my head. Why didn't (Y/N) tell me this sooner? I have been her boyfriend for two years already; I thought we'd never keep secrets from each other? I tried to gulp but I couldn't, my throat was dry and I felt tears coming. My mind was filled with regret and guilt. Why didn't I notice her scars earlier? Is that why she wears bracelets and long sleeves all the time? Why was I so oblivious and unaware about this?

"Niall?"

YOUR POV

My heart sank as I saw Niall, my one and only, stare at me with a teary-eyed face, his right hand holding my blade. My jaw slightly dropped; how the hell did he find my blade?

"Why didn't you tell me?" his voice was cracking as a tear slid down his cheek, making my heart sink some more. I felt my face turn a bit pale as I kept my mouth shut. I couldn't answer him.

"WHY? WHY (Y/N) WHY? WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME ANYTHING?" he yelled at me, breaking me down to tears.

"I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE, OKAY?!" I finally let loose as waterfalls filled my eyes. "I'M SO SICK AND TIRED OF MY FACE, MY BODY, MY WEIGHT, MY HEIGHT, MY GRADES, MY FAMILY, MY FUCKING LIFE!" I was screaming. "Don't you understand what I'm going through? Depression has taken over me and I'm on the verge of giving up!"

He stared at me; his face was torn between guilt and sorrow. He looked down, biting his lip, trying to contain his tears. I took one last glimpse of him before sobbing and kneeling down on the floor, my hands covering my face. I felt his presence as he walked towards me and knelt beside me, his arm wrapping around my back as he dropped my blade.

"Can I..." he whispered. "Can I see your scars?"

I stopped sobbing and looked up at him, his blue, crystal-like eyes meeting mine. My eyes were puffy and red and so was my face. Niall's knuckle touched my cheek as he rubbed it, giving me comfort. I left my kneeling position and formed an Indian-sitting position, which Niall followed. I took each of my bracelets one by one, exposing all my scars, cuts and burns on both arms. I closed my eyes, trying to avoid Niall's pitiful gaze. I began to tear up once more.

"(Y/N)..." All I heard was grief in his Irish accent. "Since when have you been doing this to yourself?"

"About 3 years I think." I shrugged, as if nothing was wrong. "I stopped when I met you though because you made me really happy. You made me feel beautiful and you helped me accept who I am." I saw him smile, and I did too for a second, but then my smile was replaced by a frown again. "But then," I continued explaining. "I had a relapse about four months ago and I couldn't control it anymore. All I did was self-harm and everything came back to me. My insecurities worsened and so did my depression. I feel so fucking useless, Niall." I began sobbing again. "No one... no one cares."

"Are you kidding me?" his hand went under my chin as he tilted my head up to make my eyes meet with his. "Your family cares, your friends care. The people you don't expect to care... they care too." His hands slid down to my arms, slowly caressing my self-inflicted injuries. I winced; no matter how gentle he was, it hurt, probably because my last cutting session was this morning. He looked up to me with sincerity, his eyes focused on mine. "I care."

I smiled at him, tears forming in my eyes again, but this time, it was out of joy and that feeling that someone does care for you. He brought my right arm towards his mouth and kissed it, placing light, tender kisses on my cuts, burns and scars. I didn't wince or flinch, it felt amazing. His lips made a trail, from my wrist to my forearm to my upper arm, finishing to my shoulder. He did the exact same thing to my left arm but ended with his hand on my cheek and our foreheads touching each other.

"You're beautiful, you know that? Incredibly beautiful." he planted a small kiss on my nose. "Please don't do this to yourself, okay? We can fix this." he said before kissing me deeply. It relieved me; the way his lips molded perfectly into mine... and his hands wrapped softly around my neck... plus MY hands tangled up in his blonde hair... I felt safe again.

I broke the kiss and nodded. "I love you so much." I managed to say, my throat dry and tears constantly falling from my eyes. He grinned sheepishly and blushed before wrapping his arms around me, enveloping me into a nice, calming hug.

"I love you too." he whispered into my ear, making me feel even safer.