Liam: What were you doing right now? Were you sleeping? Laughing? Crying? Liam hoped it wasn't the last one as he rolled out of bed Monday morning. He hoped, wherever you were, that you were happy. That you were moving on. That was a lie though, he didn't want you moving on. He wanted you with him. But right now, that was impossible. Things were tighter than ever now and their success was almost too much and because of that, you two were torn apart from each other. His single standing in the media caused a booming rise for the band, more merch, more tickets. More demand. Single one direction was much more desirable instead of taken one direction. And so it was, he was forced to leave you behind. He hated it, felt like shit over it. He remembered that night, how you cried, how you pleaded. You loved him, you couldn't be without him. He felt the same way but he had to look you in the eyes and lie. He had to tell you that no, he didn't love you. (but he really wanted to tell you he couldn't love you more) He had to tell you no, I don't want to be with you. (when all he wanted in the world was to put his ring on your finger) He had to tell you no, I don't want to see you again. (when in reality he carried your picture in his back pocket) He scrubbed his hands over his face as he stood, his sweats low on his hips. Louis was snoring in the bed next to him and he gently shook him awake. "Time to get up sleepy head." Louis stirred and groaned vocalizing everything Liam was feeling. He carried you with him, the guilt weighing on his heart. He stared at his phone, wanting to give into the temptation to call you and tell you everything was a lie. Just as he was about to pick it up, he had a thought. What sort of life could he give you right now? How could you have a relationship clear across the globe? He let his fingers slide down the wood, his eyes tearing up. He would let you go because he loved you and you deserved better than what he could give you. He knew that and the thought utterly broke his heart.
Harry: Harry watched tree after tree rush past, the headlights barely illuminating the green masses. It was late but he couldn't sleep. His phone was clenched tight in his fist. He knew right now you'd be waking up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. He knew you'd be stumbling blindly into the shower, a full day of classes ahead of you. He knew that the coffee pot was on and brewing, the smell perking up your tired eyes. He knew that you'd have the radio on to dance to as you made breakfast. He knew you'd be staring at the empty apartment wondering where he was. He knew that he wasn't allowed to call you. He unlocked his phone, his thumb hovering over your contact name. It'd been exactly thirty-five days since he'd heard your voice and it'd been exactly seventy-four days since he'd seen your face. He pressed his thumb down over your name, the call appearing on the screen. He pressed his fist to his mouth, his breathing becoming heavier. He shouldn't have called. Shouldn't have called. If management found out.... "Hello?" you answered breathlessly just as he was about to hang up. "Harry?" you whispered, voice breaking. He tipped his head back against the window, his eyes pooling. "Hi, baby," he rasped. He heard your sharp breath. "Why are you calling me?" He heard you sniffling on the other side of the phone and wanted to kick himself, how was this helping either of you? "I just wanted to see if you were okay," he wiped his own impatient tears away, heart breaking. "I'm-I'm okay," he heard the sadness, felt it in his chest. "I shouldn't have called. I just needed to hear your voice it's been so long-" he choked out. "Thirty five days," you murmured, shocking him. "I-I have to go," he said suddenly. He couldn't do it. Couldn't torture either of you. You'd been counting too, he sat back stunned.. He didn't expect you to wait for him but hearing those little words sparked hope in his chest. Maybe one day when he was free of this, he'd find his way back to you. Maybe one day, if you forgave him, he could be yours again.
Zayn: He could draw your eyes blindfolded, the curve of your lower lip with the poorest lighting. He could feel you if he closed his eyes, feel your body against his, your hands in his hair. He didn't let himself dwell on those things though, at least he tried not too. They tore at him, ripped him wide open. The hardest thing he ever did was walk away from you and it wasn't by choice. He did what he needed to do, and that was that. He couldn't look at anyone, couldn't sleep. The guilt was gnawing at him. He just up and left you, after you had told him how scared you were of being left behind. He had done the one thing he swore he'd never do: he left you. He hated himself, was sick over it. He lit his cigarette and took a deep drag, the smoke rising into the night sky as he exhaled. The ocean waves were slamming into the beach and Zayn let them lull him into some form of relaxation. You would have loved this, he mused. The moon was huge, bigger than he'd ever seen it. He thought he could reach his hand out and touch it, feel those craters beneath his fingers. The stars were stunning, thousand of lights winking at him from so far away. He could have drawn you here, that pale moonlight illuminating your skin, your eyes shining with those ethereal stars. Yes, he could have drawn you here. He would have kissed you here as well under that starry sky. Yes, he would have told you he loved you too. Instead, he flicked the ash off his cigarette and took another drag. You were gone, long gone. The last words you gave him were bitter and angry and it wasn't like he didn't deserve them. He did. He deserved that and more. One day, he'd find his way back to you. One day, he'd prove himself. But today, on this day, Zayn was trapped by the confines of his job, his world, and by other people. And today, on this day, his heart was full of longing for the one person he loved so much who had now grown to hate him.
Louis: He had fought. He had screamed, he had ranted and raved and it had done nothing. He was still to be without you, no matter what he threatened. He couldn't break contract, couldn't leave the band. He could't abandon the boys though. They were brothers to him, but he couldn't leave you behind either. They had made the decision for him on which to choose and that's how he found himself staring at the hotel ceiling without you. He rubbed at the ache in his chest that seemed to be swallowing him whole more and more each day. Every hour pushed you further and further away and he was sick with it. He knew that when he got back you wouldn't be waiting for him, why would you after what happened? Why would you still love him when he had so carelessly broken the heart you'd given him? And oh, what a beautiful gift your heart was. So pure, so caring, so whole. So fully his. He had smashed it into thousands of pieces and left you alone to try to fix it. He hated himself. He groaned and rolled over on his side, eyeing the empty pillow next to him. You should be here, you should be laughing with him and kissing him. But you were gone. He did what he could, he hoped wherever you were that you knew that. That he had tried to fight for you. It wasn't enough, none of it was. He wanted to be there constantly, he wanted to take care of you. He was so angry. Angry at the world, management, the boys, everyone. It was an incurable anger, an incurable emptiness. There was only one way to fill it, for him to be whole again. You were the only cure and he couldn't have you and the knowledge of that destroyed him.
Niall: Today would have been two years. Two years of love, happiness. Two years of you. His beautiful, sweet girl. Two years. But instead, it was three months without you. Three months without your smile, your light, your love. Niall was beside himself. He sat down on his bed, his knees braced on his elbows as he looked at his hands. He couldn't believe he was facing another day without you. He never though he'd be here. He should be home with you, watching you dance around the apartment singing his songs. He shouldn't be here without you. But he was and he had no choice about it. Management had told him to break it off, having a girlfriend wasn't working. He needed to be single. He had told them no, he would just keep it private but everyone knew. There wasn't a girl anywhere who didn't know his relationship status. So they told him to end it or they would. They'd find a way to remove him completely from you. So he did. He looked you in the eye on your 21 month anniversary and told you he was leaving you. He told you that he didn't want this anymore, that he was unhappy. He told you that he had fallen out of love with you, when it couldn't have been further from the truth. He wanted to marry you. He wanted you as a wife, mother to his children. But instead he ripped his future apart with tree simple words: "I'm leaving you." He heard them in his sleep, felt their weight constricting his heart. He fell back onto the bed, heart aching. "I love you. I think about you everyday," he said into the silence. There was no answer, he didn't expect there to be. He just hoped that somewhere out there you still felt him too, that you felt his heart that was still beating only for you.
