Preference # 67 He self harms

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Calum:

You walk into your boyfriend’s house and for some reason, all the lights are off. You start to turn them on, then you hear a scream. You run up the stairs and open all the doors until you see him sitting in the bathroom with his arm over the sink and a razor in the other hand. You start to feel tears burn down your face. 
“Calum” you whisper. 
He turns around, eyes red, tears running down his face. 
“(y/n)” he says, dropping the razor in the sink. 
“Calum oh my God” you say grabbing a towel and holding it on his arm to stop the bleeding. 
“I’m sorry” he keeps whispering over and over again. 
“Calum. Don’t apologize, but just tell me why”
“Um well…. Someone told me that you were cheating on me and you’ve been getting home late for a couple weeks now and I guess I started to believe that I wasn’t good enough. I’m sorry”
“Calum. You know I would never ever EVER cheat on you. I love you so much but please PLEASE promise me that you’re never going to do this again.”
He looks you in the eyes for the first time. 
He crashes his lips into yours. 
“I’m sorry I’ll never do this again. I trust you. I should’ve never even considered the fact that you were cheating”
“Calum, it’s not your fault. Someone told you I was cheating and since I’ve been forced to stay late at work for a while, I would’ve believed them too.”
“I shouldn’t though. I trust you and you’re the love of my life. I’ll always trust you”

Ashton:

You’re sitting on the couch with your boyfriend, Ashton. Soon, watch TV and cuddling turns into a make-out sesh. You start to take his plaid shirt off when you look down at his arm. 
“Ashton. What is this?” You ask, sitting back and holding his arm. 
“Nothing.” He says, grabbing his arm back. 
“Ashton, please. You know I know exactly what that is.”
He sighs and starts to put his shirt back on to cover the scars. 
“Ashton. You don’t need to hide these from me.”
He keeps looking down. 
“I don’t know what to say.” He whispers. 
“Me neither…. Why?”
“Death threats. Hate. People told me I should cut so I did.”
“Ash. No one deserves this. You especially don’t. I’ve watched you save fans’ lives and at one point, mine. You are the least deserving person of all of this. Please stop Ashton. I’ll be here for you no matter what but I don’t want you hurting yourself. How about we make a deal. For every week you go without that, I’ll get you a present. They may not be expensive because I’m basically broke, but they will be something.” You say, grabbing his arm and kissing the scars. 
“I love you.” He whispers. 
“I love you too”

Michael:

"Michael, why do you need a lighter?" you ask as you put some more stuff in boxes. You’re finally moving in with Michael, and by that, it means that you’re both moving into a new house together, so today is the day to pack up his stuff.

"Oh. I think that’s Luke’s." he says.

"You sure? I’ve seen his. It doesn’t look like this." you say, setting it down and putting more stuff into the box.

"Yeah yeah I’m positive." he says, walking out of the room.

"Where ya going?" you ask.

"Um… bathroom." he stutters, closing the bathroom door.

You pick up the lighter. You didn’t really care that he had one, as you knew that the boys have smoked, but Michael didn’t need to lie. You see tally marks on the side of it. At first you think it’s cute that he’s putting his band’s symbol on it, then you see the last one. It’s unfinished. It only has four tallies. You walk towards the bathroom when you hear the window open.

"Michael?" you ask through the door.

You don’t hear a response. 

You open the door and see Michael standing on the toilet, about to jump out the window.

"Michael?" you ask, starting to cry.

He turns and looks at you.

"Michael…" you beg.

You see a tear stream down his face.

"Trust me, this is for the best."

"No Michael, please come back. I didn’t mean to push about the lighter. I’m sorry."

"No. It’s not. It’s not your fault. You’re just better off without someone like me."

"What do you mean?"

"I just…. The lighter is for something else."

"Michael…"

"No please. It’s not easy to share."

"I know it isn’t Michael."

"How?"

"What do you think I always buy razors for?"

"(y/n)…." he whispers, getting off the toilet, running over to you, and hugging you.

"I didn’t know" he whispers.

"I know. I just. Can’t help it sometimes."

"Me neither. It’s hard not to once you’ve been doing it for so long."

"I know. But Michael, we can’t just keep doing it. I hate doing it. It’s only temporary help. We need to be strong… for each other."

"I know, it’s just hard not to sometimes."

"How about every time one of us gets to the point that they need to… you know… we tell the other person and the other person has to stop them."

He finally releases the hug.

"I like that idea." he says, smiling, a genuine smile, then leans in and kisses you.

Luke:

"Luke, where’s your laptop?" you scream from the bedroom upstairs.

"In the top drawer of the desk!" he yells back.

You already looked there, but you look again. It’s still not there. You start to open all the other drawers, when you see a piece of paper with scribbled handwriting and water drops on it. You pick it up and start to read it. You can’t believe what you’re reading. You sit down on the bed. You run your hands through your hair. You go to put the letter back when you hear his voice.

"(y/n), what are you doing?"

"I’m… umm…"

"Can I have that back?" he asks.

"I don’t want you to have this." you say as you feel a tear drip down.

"It’s mine."

"It doesn’t have to be this way, Luke."

"It’s hard having the media all up in your face, (y/n). Sometimes I just can’t handle it."

"But you could’ve told me. Instead of writing a letter just in case you take it too far. I don’t know what I’d do if you left Luke. Please stop harming yourself. You’re better than the paparazzi and you’re better than the haters. Just please stop doing this."

"It’s harder than it seems."

"I’ll be here for you, I promise. If you ever feel like you need to, just tell me. I’m here."

author’s note: I'm sorry if this made you cry it made me cry too! If you ever feel sad, just message 

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