Harry Styles imagines

You're worth it

With a huge smile on my face and my heart skipping beats between my chest, I closed the door to my house behind me and slowly made my way to my boyfriend's place. Even though I just saw him a couple of hours ago, I couldn't wait to see him again. Every second I spent without him was wasting precious time and I definitely couldn't allow it. Whenever we were apart, I had the urge to haste to him and just be with him, in his arms. I missed him always, no matter if he had seen him hours or even minutes ago. He meant so much to me, I could not even imagine a complete life without him.

While walking, I went through different ideas in my head about how we could pass some time. There were occasions were Marcel and I just watched romantic comedies, because they were his favorite, all cuddled up against each other or we took a walk outside, talking about different stuff. Sometimes, we sat there and did not talk to each other, being wrapped in each other's arms, just enjoying the silence that surrounded us. As long as I was with Marcel, I was the happiest girl in the world and nothing would ever change this.

When I finally arrived at Marcel's, I knocked on the door gently. However, after waiting for a few minutes, nobody had still opened the door for me so I took out a spare key that Marcel gave me to his house so I had always access to it whenever I wished to be there. I unlocked the door and stepped inside, being greeted by nothing but silence.

"Marcel?" I called after him.

I was wondering if nobody was at home but according to Marcel's shoes placed besides the entry I assumed he had to have been present.

"Marcel, baby, are you at home?"

As I got no response, I walked towards the stairs to check up if he was upstairs in his room. Maybe he had been in the shower, that's why he hadn't noticed my presence yet. With hasty steps, I walked up the stairs and headed to his room. I wanted to push down the handle as suddenly I perceived sobbing sounds on the other side. With worry immediately consuming me, I pushed the door open only to be confronted with the most horrific image that I had seen in my entire life. My heart wrenched immediately in my chest and I felt a stinging pain that could have been compared to what you would feel when you would have been stabbed by thousand knives.

Right in the corner of the room, Marcel was placed in a seated position on the ground. In one hand, he held a sharp razor while his other wrist was injured. Blood dripped from his wound and soaked his pants with the red liquid. His eyes were blood-shot and he cried uncontrollably, more and more tears slid along his rosy cheeks. I ran towards him and let myself fall to the ground right in front of him.

"Marcel, what have you done?!" I squealed in disbelief. I knocked the razor out of his hand which landed a few meters away from us. Taking his hands in mine, I started to examine the wound he had created. He had damaged his soft skin.

"Marcel, what is this? Why have you done this?" He kept his head tilted down in shame, refusing to look at me in the eyes. To my dismay, I found out that it wasn't the first time he had cut himself. I discovered a few more scars along his wrist, some of them were even fresh and new, probably being cut a not long time ago. Realization hit me like a heavy brick and I had realized that my boyfriend cut himself behind my back and I was foolish not to recognize it. How could I oversee a serious issue like this? What kind of girlfriend had I been?

I fought against the urge to cry and scream because I knew I had to be strong for him. Whatever reason had leaded him to the choice of harming himself, I would find it out but now he needed my comfort and support.

I instantly rushed to the bathroom and grabbed the first aid kid. Taking the utensils I needed, I went back to Marcel and started to treat his wound. Luckily, the cut wasn't too deep as I could tell and it would heal very soon.