Forgotten

Ch 11

Niall**

I watch as the crimson liquid oozes from the fresh cut on my wrist. I know its deep, because I can see white. A wave of relief washes over me as my eyelids grow heavy. 

"Niall.. why don't you love me?" I hear Harry's voice say in my head

"Baby, come back to me."

"Niall"

"Niall"

"Niall"

"SHUT UP!" I scream grabbing the razor again, I slash into my arm five more times and watch the blood ooze out. 

My phone begins to ring, and I see its my mom. She's called me thousands of times since I told her I was coming home, but I never returned them, and I never went home. I ignore the call again, and look at the blood around me. 

I'll have to clean this up before Zayn-

"Niall? You home lad?" Fuck, he's home 

I hear his feet on the steps as he comes closer to the bathroom.

"Niall, you in there?" He knocks on the door lightly

"I'll-I'll be out soon!" I assure him, as I rush around to clean up. I mop the blood up and throw the razor, mop, and tissue in a bag, and put my hoodie on. 

He smiles when he sees me, and I try to smile back. 

"Hey," he syas hugging me, and I wince at the pressure on my wrist. 

"Hey, I'll be right back, just gonna take something to the dumpster." 

He nods and walks into the bedroom. 

I trot down the steps slowly, and check my phone again.

I walk in the house, and take off my pants and get in the bed. I drift into sleep and dream of Harry, and Zayn.

Zayn**

I chuckle as I walk into the bedroom and see Niall sleeping. I see that he's forgotten to take off his hoodie, and slowly remove it trying not to wake him. 

I get into bed behind him stripping down to my boxers. I put my hand in his, and trace lines in his palm. He stirs a little but stays asleep.

Damn I love this boy. I wish-

What the fuck?

I feel something wet on my fingertips, and I pull back the blanket to look at his wrists.

Cuts?

Deep cuts!

I shake him roughly and his eyes slowly flutter open, and when I see his gorgeous blue eyes, I forget for a second why I'm upset.

"Niall.. babe.. why'd you.. why'd you cut yourself?"

He stares at me for a second, and stands abruptly grabbing the blanket. 

"Where are you going?"

"Downstairs." He mutters leaving the room.

"What? Why?" 

He turns around, eyes ablaze, and I'd never think that he'd ever say what he said to me. 

"Because, you're not Harry."