Pick Up These Broken Pieces (Harry Styles Fan Fiction)

To Forgive or Not to Forgive (Chapter 7)

Some news:

ONE SHOTS

working on them, they're kinda like a break from these characters, also a gift to you lovely readers *mwah, mwah kisses*

ELLIOT POV

His hand swung forward.

I closed my eyes.

The impact hit my face like a million shockwaves pulsing through my fragile body. Like burning coals falling on me, burying me in the depths of despair. Like a sharp knife gashing across my face, magnified a hundred times.

It was only a punch.

The part that shocked me the most was not the pain, but the fact that he was the one who did it. Punched me, called me a slut, whore, bitch, nasty things no one would want to be called.

The part that shocked me the most, was that I actually had hope in him.

Before I could control it or realize what had happened, my childhood came creeping back. Now, it had all replayed right in front of my eyes.

The hope, the letdown, the shame. Just not the love.

Never would I love Harry Styles ever again.

He sulked away, not saying a word. Leaving me breathless, shocked and broken.

I sunk to the floor, wide-eyed, my face screaming in pain. My head collapsed into my arms, which were on my knees.

I'm not sure how long I stayed there, motionless, choking out silent tears. Hoping that it would all turn around.

Why would anything work out when I was doing nothing? Nothing but sitting, crying and thinking.

No one was there to help. No one was there to calm me down or cheer me up. No one was there to tell me it was going to be fine. Just me and the empty room.

No one.

I slowly hoisted myself up and lurked to the kitchen, sniffling my nose to hold back the tears. Opening a drawer to the side of the counter, I sat down at the stool.

I pulled out a small, sharp knife.

I breathed quickly, questioning what I was about to do.

Why would I question? No one cared about me. Everyone was gone when I needed someone to talk to or a shoulder to lean on. I put the blade of the knife to my forearm.

I shut my eyes and started moving down my other hand. I waited for the pain.

It never came.

I opened my eyes, to see that the knife didn't make contact with my skin.

Instead, someone was shaking my frozen body, as of trying to snap me out of a trance.

"Elliot! Elliot, please stop!" a male voice cried. Louis was grasping the arm with the knife, a worried, shocked expression showing in his blue eyes.

Tears streamed out of my eyes, streaming across my face and pouring to the counter. I could see this from the corner of my eye, for I didn't dare raise my head from my hands after the knife was taken away.

I made soft sobbing noises, making Alli step forward. "Don't cry, your too pretty to cry!" she comforted. "Come on, look at me Elle, it'll all be alright."

I slowly raised my head, letting the moonlight illuminate the big red piece of face. They both gasped.

"Elle?" Louis asked softly. I would say I answered a little too loud and startled them both.