One Direction Boy x Boy One Shots

He's Gone. ~Zianourry

A/N: WARNING THIS IS NOT A HAPPY STORY!!!

“Louis,” Harry screamed after his friend. “Don’t fucking run away from me again. We need to talk about this.”

“Talk about what!? I’m fine!” Louis screamed back.

Niall, Zayn, and Liam were all in the room at this point. They were all worried about Louis. They blocked all of the exits so Louis couldn’t go anywhere.

“Louis you’re not fine,” Harry said calmly. “You’re starving yourself.”

“So what!? I’m not hurting anyone!” Louis yelled. He had enough.

“You’re hurting yourself Louis,” Niall said.

Louis jolted his head in Niall’s direction. “No I’m not. I’m just not eating as much as I used to. No big deal.”

Louis walked over to the stairs where Zayn was. Zayn held his ground but Louis was stronger. Louis ran up the stairs and locked himself in his room. The other boys ran after him but couldn’t get him to open the door. Zayn, Liam, and Harry gave up and walked back down the stairs. Niall stared at the door, hoping Louis would open the door and talk about what was going on. Niall put his hand on the door as his eyes started to fill up with tears. He was so worried about Louis. He had been distant for a while but no one knew why. The boys had just found out that Louis hasn’t been eating the day before but Louis wasn’t home for them to say anything. They confronted him about it as soon as he got home but that obviously just made him hate them. Niall wiped the tears off his cheeks and walked back down the stairs to meet up with the others.

Louis was a mess. He hated every part of everyday. He woke up every morning and hated everything he saw. He hated himself the most. He hated the way he looked, he hated his personality, and he even started to loath his friends for even acknowledging his existence. He couldn’t watch interviews or look at magazines that the boys were in because he couldn’t stand the sight of himself. He hated many things but he hated himself the most. He started to starve himself as a way of punishment. He was punishing himself for existing. But that wasn’t enough. That’s when he started cutting. Whenever he watched the blood spill down his arm, he smiled. That was the only time he smiled anymore.

Louis sat on the edge of his bed and stared at the floor. His hands were covering his mouth and he felt the hot tears pouring from his eyes on his fingers. He was so angry at the boys. He knew they were trying to help but he didn’t want the help.

“I don’t deserve their help,” he mumbled to himself. “I don’t deserve their friendship.”

He slowly made his way to his bathroom. He looked at himself in the mirror above the sink. He gripped the sink with whatever strength he had left. His eyes were red and puffy, his hair was all over the place, and his clothes were crumpled up and stained with tears. He opened the medicine cabinet to find an empty box of Band-Aids right in the front. He pulled out the box and sat down in the back corner of the bathroom. He opened the box and pulled out a small razor blade. Butterflies were flying all around his stomach from excitement. He had been waiting all day to relieve the pain. He adjusted the blade in his hand and slashed the soft skin on his wrist. He watched as the small scratch turned red. It wasn’t enough. He needed more. He cut 3 more lines in his wrist, one behind the other. The blood from all of the different lines morphed into one stream of red liquid. He smiled as he lost blood. All the pain from the day was being washed away. He leaned his head back and let all of his worries wash away.