A/N: OKAY, OKAY. I KNOW. I HAVENT UPTATED IN AGES. IM SORRY I'VE JUST BEEN REALLY BUSY WITH SCHOOL BUT, I NEEDED TO POST SOMETHING. SO I TOOK THESE OFF OF TUMBLR. ALL CREDIT GOES TO THE ORIGINAL WRITER.
Harry -
You didn’t hear the sound of the front door fastening, too preoccupied in the ensuite adjacent to the bedroom you shared with Harry. You blinked a few times, until the thick red lines on your arms became a blur, and you could poke them just to remind yourself of the pain. You swallowed thickly, and quivered, raising your arm to blow on the ladder of cuts, wincing when it hurt. ”Fuck,” you muttered to yourself, “fuck, fuck, fuck.”
"(Y/N)?"
"Fuck!" Your voice rose, and you hastened for a washcloth, one you kept in a makeup bag with the rest of your things, razors, antiseptic cream, bandages and gauze. "(Y/N), are you in the bathroom?" Harry’s low rasp sounded on the other side of the door. You glanced up, tear tracks on your face, "yeah, just getting ready for bed," you gulped, pressing the cloth to your arm. A silent yowl leapt out when the fissures in the fabric bit your raw wounds.
"Baby, are you okay?" Harry murmured, with a gentle knock.
"Yeah, I’m fine," you gasped.
"No, you’re not… what’s wrong?" There was a thud, and a flickering shadow, as Harry leant his weight against the wood, "can I come in?"
"No, I’m fine. I’ll… I’ll be out in a second," you whimpered, as blood peered out either side of the cloth, a thick red stain pooling out from under your hand.
"Babe," Harry stressed, "something’s wrong. I know you. Can I please come in?"
"No, I…"
"Babe," Harry opened the door, and stopped when he saw you, "baby?" He stumbled on his way over, falling to his knees over your figure, and encasing you in his arms, "wha… what… what are you doing? What are you doing to yourself, baby?" You fell against his chest, cloth slipping, tears pooling out onto the front of his shirt, heavy sobs breaking you into pieces. His hands framed your skin, struggling to hold you together, and keep the pieces from shattering again. "You don’t have to do this," he whispered into your hair, "you… you don’t have to do this…"
"I’m sorry…" was all you could murmur. He eased away from you and sat down, with his back against the wall. He took you with him, and held your arm in his hands, shaking. "Will you let me clean this?" He murmured softly. You managed a nod, and he reached over you to pick up some gauze and lay it gently along your skin, pressing with the pads of his fingers, shushing your hair and kissing your forehead when it hurt.
"Now," he measured his voice, swallowing his own thoughts as he laid your arm in your lap and focused on your shaky gaze, "can we talk about this? Please?"
Liam -
You tugged on your sleeve, anxious as you peered over your shoulder. “I’ll be out in a minute, babe!” You called to your boyfriend in the kitchen, “just… just cleaning up a bit… damn,” you finished with a murmur, as specks of red caught your eye, on the sleeve of your jacket. You shrugged it off again, and pressed the material under the faucet,splashing cold water again to dampen the stains. You watched your forearm as you worked, the deep cuts still seeping blood in tiny beads.
"Babe, come on, I think this is the first time I’ve ever perfected chicken, you have to taste this," Liam called out, "get your sexy bum in here!"
"Coming," you yelled out, again.
"Well, what’s the hold up, love?" His footsteps in the hallway scared you, and you turned off the tap, flinging your jacket into the bathtub. You bent your arms behind your back, turning to face him as he rounded the corner into the little room. "What’s up?" He smiled when he saw you.
