HE FINDS OUT ONE OF YOUR SECRETS BY READING YOUR DIARY
Louis: He was just looking for your mother's old recipe book, he was. But he was digging through the box in the attic and he found a whole box full of books! "All I wanted to do was make her breakfast and now I'm digging through boxes," he grumbles, even though he can't wait to see your expression when he makes a (hopefully) successful plate of your mom's famous Blueberry Crepes. Now, where was that damn recipe book? He pulls out a stack of books, tossing an old yearbook back in the box. He sees the familiar "Mommy's Recipes" notebook and sets it aside, but a very sparkly red book catches his eye. Curiously, he picks up the book. It must've been yours, from your younger years. It's got your name scribble on it, and 'FUTURE MRS.TOMLINSON ' doodled all around. Louis lets out a small chuckle and opens it, wondering what other exciting things about him are inside. But the first entry chills him to the bone. "Dear Diary, why am I writing in this stupid book anyway? I cut again today. I need to stop, I know. But I can't." He carefully turns the next page. "Diary-- I cut once more, right on my stomach. I hope no one sees." Next page. "Another one on my stomach." He turns pages and pages, each one a new cut until the last page fills him with relief. "Dear Diary, I stopped. I'm too good for this. I stopped and I'm never going back." He shuts the book slowly, the recipe book long forgotten. You're still sleeping, and he loiters in the doorway for a moment. He watches you lying in the sheets, looking so delicate and beautiful. Your hair splayed around you, like a halo of some sort. He's proud of you for stopping, but it hurts him just a little that he'd never known. Of course it was before you met him, but it still hurts him that you'd ever felt so bad that you'd harm yourself. He instinctively walks over to the bed and sits beside your form gently, careful not to wake you up. He slides the hem of your over-sized shirt up slowly, seeing tiny scars he'd never noticed before. How had he not seen them? They were so pale--the kind of scars you wouldn't notice unless you knew they were there. Unless you were looking. He places his hand over one particularly dark scar, his warm skin meeting yours. He leans over and kisses one of the scars, one right near your hip, just as you stir awake. "Louis," you breathe, noticing him and your scars. "I'm so proud of you, I didn't mean to find out, but I'm glad I did..." he says softly, running his hand over the scars once more. "You're stronger than I ever imagined, (Y/N). I love you so much." A tear slides down your cheek and he wraps you in his arms, the two of you sitting and just...being together in comfortable silence. "I love you so much, Louis," you tell him quietly, burying your head against his bare chest. "I love you more. So, so much more," he replies.
Harry: "HARRY, CAN YOU PLEASE CHANGE THE SHEETS ON THE BED?" you call out from the shower, crossing your fingers that maybe just once he'd do some chores around the house. With a sigh, the green-eyed boy agrees, getting off the couch and heading to strip the bed. As he pulls of the sheets, a cheeky thought passes through his mind. "(Y/N), I wish I was stripping you instead of the bed!" he shouts to you cheekily, laughing at his own joke. You roll your eyes and laugh despite yourself. Whatever makes him get chores done, yeah? Harry, still smiling to himself reaches over and yanks the pillowcase off his own pillow, tossing it aside. As he reaches over for your pillow, he notices an odd bulge inside the case. What could it be? Curiously, he yanks the pillowcase off, sending a small leatherbound book to come sprawling onto the bare bed. A diary? He's about to put it back and respect your privacy, but it'd fallen open to yesterday's date and his name caught your eye. With curiosity, he leans over and his eyes scan the pages, his heart sinking with each word. "Dear Diary...I hate myself for feeling this way, but I'm just...so scared of losing Harry. I love him more than anything, he's my world, you know? But there's so many other girls falling all over him, prettier ones, better ones, smarter ones...I wonder how I still have him. I don't want to lose him xx" You walk into the bedroom, wrapped in a towel, droplets of water grazing your skin. "Kitten, I hate myself for letting you feel this way," Harry whispers, turning around. "What? What do you mean..." your eye catches the familiar book lying on the bed and you turn away. "Oh." He quickly walks over and gathers you in a hug, kissing your lips softly. "Please don't ever feel like that. You're never going to lose me. I'm always afraid of losing you--I never thought you felt that way about me," he breathes. "I love you so much, babe. You're the most beautiful and perfect. You know I'd never do anything to hurt you, and I'm not leaving anytime, ever. I love you so damn much, and I'll be damned if I let you go." You let a tear drip down your cheek and mix with the warm water from your recent shower. Your towel slides off, but you ignore it, just burying yourself in his arms. You can just feel in his words and his whole being that he means what he says. And you won't be losing him anytime soon.
