Harry Styles Imagines

•Kill yourself•

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"Goddamn it, (Y/N)," he seethed. You knew he'd be mad, but you at least thought he would be more empathetic. 

"Harry, I'm sorry, it just gets to me sometimes," you whispered, looking down at your bloodied wrists.
"Fuck, (Y/N), you think I don't know that? Do you think it's not hard for me?" he said strongly, teeth clenched. You kept your head down with your eyes focused on your wrists. "Do you?" he said, louder this time, but you remained quiet. "Fucking answer me, (YN)!" he yelled.
You jumped, eyes wide, in fear of his angry demeanor. "I-I know it's hard for you, Harry, but—"
"No, I don't think you know. I get hate every fucking day, (Y/N)! It's annoying as all hell, but fuck, I don't slit my goddamn wrists! You think that's going to make anything better? Hurting yourself? It's not going to fucking do anything except leave ugly scars."
Your stomach churned. You hated that he wasn't comforting you when you needed it. He had always been so concerned about your well being in the past; why was he getting angry at you now? "Harry, I didn't say it would make it better. It's just a good distraction from everything else going on right now."
"Oh, please, (Y/N)," he scoffed.
"What do you want me to do, Harry? I can't come to my fucking boyfriend when he's halfway around the world! Jesus, Harry, you're never here! How am I supposed to go about this any other way when you're never here?" you finally yelled, at your breaking point.
"Oh, no," Harry chuckled darkly. "No way in hell are you putting this on me, (Y/N). It's not my fault you cant hold your own for a few fucking weeks. It isn't that hard! You're not a child, (Y/N). You need to learn to not be so fucking clingy and dependent on me."
"Clingy? Harry, all I want is some comfort when I'm down. I'm not asking for much. Just some reassurance that everything is going to be okay in the end!"
"Well stop fucking whining to me."
"What the hell do you think I should do, Harry?" you hissed.
He looked at you with dark eyes and balled fists. "Cut deeper."
You gasped. You instantly felt your walls crumbled around you, your heart caving in on itself. You mustered up enough courage to hold in your tears. Though it was difficult, he would not see you cry. You turned away from him, to the front door. Not giving him another look at your face, you whispered, "Fine." Then you slammed the door behind you.

 All I could do was fucking pray she'd answer the phone. If she didn't... I have no clue what I'd do. I'd go insane. I dialed her number with shaking hands, my chest rising and falling in rugged breaths. "Hi, it's (Y/N). I'm sorry I can't come to the phone right now, but—" "Fuck!" I cursed, throwing my phone on the bed. If she wasn't going to answer, I was going to look for her. I grabbed my keys and nearly sprinted to my car. As I drove down our neighborhood, realization began to sink in. What if she hurt herself again? Or worse. I swallowed thickly, quickly wiping the growing moisture in my eyes. No. She's okay. She has to be. What would I do if she wasn't? Shit, I don't even know. My tires screeched to a halt as I spotted a familiar grey jumper from the corner of my eye. I pulled over, my heart nearly beating out of my chest. I opened my door and ran to her. "(Y/N)!" I yelled. She turned to look at me with red cheeks and puffy eyes; the weight of everything kicked in and I lost it. "Holy shit," I sobbed, wrapping my arms around her small figure. "Harry..." she tried to pry herself away from me but I wouldn't let go. I couldn't. "No, let me hold you," I cried, trying to calm down but continuing to choke on tears. "I'm so sorry," I rambled, "I shouldn't have gotten upset, and I especially shouldn't have said what I did. I know you hate me, but I was so scared. Tomorrow you can yell at me and give me what Heaven knows I deserve, but for now, please just let me hold you." And she did, and we cried together, in each other's arms.