One Direction Dirty Imagines

heaven

[trigger warning: this may be a trigger idk, its just really sad  so read with caution]

He felt dead. His chest ached so bad he had scratches over his heart from where his blunt fingernails had scraped so many times trying to get rid of the pain.

He had never experienced a pain so red hot, so fiery in it's burn that it caused a sadness so cold. Ice in his veins, sending a never ending shiver throughout him.

    You were gone. No matter how hard his bruised fist rammed into the dented walls. No matter how many tears he shed. You were gone. And he still had a life to live. But maybe he didn't have to. He thought about just ending it all, but you'd be so disappointed  in him. You'd want him to move on and be happy. But hell, you didn't know how fucking bad it hurt.

     A life without you was one he rarely thought he'd ever have to live. The few times he'd fallen asleep and had nightmares that some tragic accident had taken you didn't make his head throb nearly as bad as it did each night now when he woke up to the nightmare. Nothing on this godforsaken earth could've prepared him for this.

        He wishes every second of everyday that it was him six feet underground. He wishes he could go back to that day and keep you home; keep you safe and never let you go. But it was too little to late.

       And then there's the guilt that eats him alive, no not guilty that you were dead. He knew it wasn't it fault but guilt for the day he got called into the hospitals morgue. To indentify the body. As he sat in the cold, stoeic room he actually prayed that it wasn't you. He prayed it was someone else's fiancé, someone else's daughter, sister or mother.

      But when the man in all white scrubs led him back to where the paled body was, it was you. It was your hair. Your face. Your fingers. Your lips. It was you and he'd never started crying faster in his life.

     At first His brain denied it, you had just been lying next to him this morning. Breathing and laughing and talking. Telling him about how you were so glad he convinced you to wear your black heels the other night instead of the white ones because everyone had complimented you on them. Telling him how his voice was your favorite thing in the world and that you loved the scrambled eggs he'd made you.

         God, he missed you so so much. The way you'd shake your head with a half smile on your lips whenever he told some stupid raunchy joke. The way you talked with your hands and hated the way inscents smelled because your parents use to buy them in bulk and the slightest whiff of one sent you into a sneezing fit like no other.

But he guesses heaven couldn't wait for you....that GOD just needed another angel that day so he had to take away his.

________________________________

I'm sorry this is so sad but I was listening to Heaven by Beyonce on repeat and I was sad so I said hey, why not write something? I didn't use a name in this so you can make it whoever you want

Love you all. xxx