Shades Of Styles

He finds out you self harm

You get on your phone to look at the new texts you got.
"You deserve to die" one says.
"Go kill yourself" the other one says.
You stare blankly at the texts. You've been receiving these since you started dating Harry a year ago.
You begin to cry. Why do people hate you? You haven't done anything wrong.
You toss your phone on the couch and cry. You curl up in a ball and let all the tears escape your eyes.
You phone starts buzzing out of control and you know it's just more hate. You try to not let it bother you but it just hurts so much.
You make your way to the bathroom and grab your razor blade from behind the mirror.
You roll up your sleeves and run your fingers across your already marked skin.
You put the blade to your wrist and slowly slice it against the skin.
You bite your lip to keep from crying. Then you watch the blood drip to the floor. You do it once more and watch as both the blood drip down. Then you look at yourself in the mirror. Your make up is smeared and the blood is still dripping. You lift up the bloody razor and examine it.
You get light headed and drop the razor. Your vision turns blurry and you fall to the floor.
"(Y/N)" you hear Harry call. Your not sure if your hilusinating or not. You bring your knees to your chest and cry harder.
"(Y/N). Babe. Your phone is going off." he calls but you stay silent.
Then the bathroom door flies open.
"Oh my god! Babe! What happened?"
You stay silent. He looks at the blood on the floor and then the razor.
"No! Baby! Why?" he asks and kneels down in front of you. He pulls your left arm out. He traces the cuts that spell out Help.
"Baby if you needed help you should have asked" He looks at you. You close your eyes and bring your wrist back to you.
"I'm sorry. I just can't believe this. Who made you do this?"
"No one" you cry.
"Some one" he urges.
You hesitate not knowing if you should tell him it was his fans. Maybe you should.
"Fans" you say.
"Fans? My fans"
You nod and he stares at you.
"Babe. I didn't know. I am so so sorry." he pulls you to him. He runs your back.
"Why so they hate me?" you ask.
"They don't. They're just jealous of you. They want you have"
"They tell me to kill myself all the time. That's why I do it."
He doesn't answer and you look up at him. He's crying.
"Don't cry baby" you sit up and wipe his tears away.
"I just can't believe they would do something like this" he looks away.
You lay back in his chest and he kisses your head.
"Lets get you cleaned up" he picks you up and puts. You on the counter space next to the sink.
He cleans up your cuts and wraps a badge over them then puts a fresh shirt on you. Then he wipes all your make up off.
"I like you better without make up anyways" he says.
You smile at him and he kisses your cheek.
"Much better" he smiles as he throws away the paper towel.
As he cleans up the blood he begs you not do cut again and gives you many reasons why you shouldn't. You assure him you won't and he throws away the razor blade.

After he's done you both lay down and he tells you how beautiful you are as he strokes your hair. You eventually fall asleep.