One Direction Imagines/Preferences :) (REQUESTS CLOSED)

Louis Imagine for @Panthola

Louis Imagine for Emelie Mary. It's a bit deep, so fair warning. Hope you like it! :D

**Emelie’s P.O.V**

 My phone rang on the bed next to me as I shifted my weight, managing to keep my eyes glued to the online article about me. A reporter had managed to snag pictures of me and Louis when we out to dinner the night before, and he was now writing about how it looked like I had gained weight and other lies. If anything, I had lost weight since I started dating Louis, but my brain always chose to believe the paparazzi and the fans that were rude.

I sighed as my phone rang again, and answered it quickly, mumbling a hello. “Emelie? Please don’t read that article that just came out,” Louis’s voice greeted me.

 “I won’t,” I lied, already scrolling down to the comments sections, knowing I was making a mistake.

 I heard Louis sigh in relief, and I regretfully knew that he believed my lie once again. “Good. Because none of it is true.”

 “It’s not!” I heard Niall call out from the background. I heard muffled replies form the other boys as well, and I forced out a laugh, finally reaching the comments.

 Louis began to talk about his day and about what time he should be home as I read the comments, biting my lip to keep in the sobs. How could people be so cruel? Not only were they agreeing with the reporter, but they were offering more suggestions about all my flaws. I read one and a sob accidently ripped through my chest, silencing Louis. “Emelie?! What’s wrong?” he cried out worriedly.

 “Nothing. I j-just stubbed my t-toe,” I lied, wiping my eyes and shutting the laptop. “It hurts like a bitch, Louis. I’m going to get some ice. See you later?” I asked, wanting nothing more than to just go hang up and deal with the hate myself.

 “Yeah, love you, sweetheart,” he said.

 “Love you too,” I mumbled before hanging up. I quickly sat up and made my way into the bathroom, blindly fumbling with the drawer under the sink with one hand and my sleeve with the other.

 “I guess I deserve this,” I mumbled, gently slicing my wrist with the razor. “One for each one of my flaws mentioned,” I continued in a whisper, slicing my wrist ten more times. Before I knew it, I slowly drifted off into a light sleep.

 I was awakened who-knows-how long later when I heard my phone ringing from the bed. I groaned, glancing down at my arm. The slits were still there, and some blood had now dried up on the cuts. Sighing deeply, I stood up and made my way to the bed, answering the phone with a quiet hello.

 “Emelie? You there, babe?” Louis asked.

 “Yeah, Lou, what is it?”

 “You sound tired. You okay?” he asked worriedly, ignoring my question.

 “Yeah, I just woke up from a nap. What’s up?”

“Oh, yeah, I’m coming home now. Alright? And I’m bringing dinner, so don’t cook. Pick out a movie for us, yeah?”

 “Alright, Lou, see you soon,” I said, hanging up once again. I went to go put my phone on the dresser, but a blinking light on the screen caught my eye. I glanced at it, noticing that it was my Twitter notification button, and it was blinking like crazy. Against my better judgment, I opened the notifications and began to read all of the nasty comments some of the fans had in response to the article.

 Maybe they’re all right, though. Maybe I was getting fat, and I was too ugly for Louis. Maybe Eleanor was better all along. At least she was worth something and was able to give Louis happiness, which apparently I failed at.