Zayns POV

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Zayn watched as Liam walked past him, smiling and whispering into the ear of the new girl. He could feel his face screw up in disgust, Liam had only broken up with him  three weeks ago and he had already moved onto a girl he had barely known for more than three seconds.

Stalking down the hall the opposite way from Liam he pulled his stereotypical bad boy leather jacket tighter round his shoulders. He closed his eyes tightly behind his pitch black Ray Bans, forcing tears that forcing their way from his eyes.

He could think back to the day he had first asked Liam on a date and how Liam had straight out rejected him, not because he was a guy but due to the fact that he was seen as the typical bad boy. He had then spent the next six months showing Liam his other side; he had shown him what he was like behind the dark mysterious mask he always wore.

He had taken him to a place where he would sit and think, he had drawn him in the falling rays of the sun and gave it to him. He knew that picture was framed on Liams wall, next to one that he had done for their first year together. Both of them sitting on a bench cheeks pressed together, smiles on both their faces and the words of Liams favourite song written looking like the twists of wind surrounding them.

He felt a huge lump at the back of his throat as he thought more of the relationship he had had with Liam, how sweet and simple it had been, but mainly the fact that he had never seen that Liam didn’t want him anymore. That he didn’t want to be with a guy anymore. Zayn knew he would have been okay if he had just broken up with him because he wanted to be with another guy, but the fact that Liam had chucked him because he was a guy. He just couldn’t take it anymore.

He walked out of the school and towards the place him and Liam had many of their firsts. First kiss. First snog. First love bite. First time together.

He closed his eyes as he neared the top of the hill, the smell of the grass bringing back all of the memories only making it harder for him but in reality this was still the only place he could think. No one ever came here. A rustle in the bushes startled him and he froze for a few seconds, but thinking it only to be a squirrel he kept walking.

Once at the top he finally realised just how long he had hidden at school, the sun was already setting. He pushed through a gap in the bushes to be affronted with a sight he had never wished to see. Liam and his girl.

Sitting together watching as the sunset, holding hands and pressing kisses to each others cheeks, necks and lips. Zayn couldn’t deny how lovely they looked together but it didn’t stop a single thought from flowing through his pain filled brain. “If I can’t live without him, he can live without me.” It didn’t even phase him as he thought about.

Stumbling away from them he was sure he heard someone shouting his name, but he kept running. Branches and leaves smacking him in the face probably causing a few cuts to form and blood to dribble down his face. Feeling something under his foot Zayn suddenly saw the ground coming closer to his face, he didn’t even have time to through his hands out to stop his fall. He felt the air forced from his chest and his face hit the cold sodden earth that covered to forest floor.

Then he just lay there. Looking at a trees roots and breathing softly, smelling the damp soil and listening as he heard footsteps getting closer. He just let his eyes fall shut and let his body barely move, but that didn’t last long as a large warm hand landed on his shoulder. One he knew all to well, one that had gripped bruises into his skin and caressed his skin softly in the after glow so many times.

He could feel tears start to well up in his throat, making it harder for him to hold them back. He started to bite down on his lip feeling the warm metallic taste cover his taste buds, making him less attention to the hand placed on him.

But something made him flip over, let his eyes open and sobs to fall from his lips. Three words from Liams lips, “Zayn, you okay?”

Looking up at Liam Zayn made a chocking noise he was so close, he could smell the scent of him and see his huge brown eyes.

He scrambled away from Liam his eyes wide, dried blood on his face and fresh blood dripping from his lip. His mouth flapping open and closed trying to force words out but they were staying fixed to the tip of his tongue.

But then they were free and flowing from his mouth, “NO! How could I be okay! You took her here! Here!? My place! They place where we did all our firsts! Somewhere I finally felt safe! You thought it was okay Liam! You are a fucking bastard! You knew how much this place meant to me!” he pulled himself up and gave one last look at Liam, “But don’t worry. I won’t be back.”

Zayn stalked away knowing Liam would be standing there, his beautifully innocent face a picture of pure shock and regret. But he kept his movements steady and never looked back he was going home and stopping all the pain he was currently going through for good.

On the walk home he finished his final cigarette and put his Ray Bans through Nialls letterbox, at Harrys he put his favourite sketch book through the door and at Louis he left him his leather jacket, one he was never seen with out. He finally reached his house and walked up to his room.

No one was in so this made it so much easier.

He found the picture he had  planned  on giving Liam for their second anniversary, flipping it over he started to write a letter to Liam.

To Liam,

               Just so you know none of this is your fault. It’s just me not being able to cope and this is the only thing I can do to stop all the pain.

I was going to give you this for our second anniversary, it’s the first picture I ever drew of you. When I saw you in class and knew I had to get to know you.

Anyway, bye Liam.

All my love, Zayn. 

Zayn sighed and walked down to the living room. He folded the picture slowly and placed it in an envelope. Once Liams name was written on the front he taped it to the front door. Zayn knew he would come here eventually, once going to all the other boys houses.

He walked back up the stairs and into his bathroom; he didn’t bother to lock the doors. He climbed into the bathtub and sighed. Reaching behind the collection of hair products that were scattered around he found what he needed.

Looking down at his arm and the shiny blade clutched in his fingers he made the first press, against the fragile skin just below his elbow.

It was a slow burning line he made down to his wrist, he hand shook as he lifted his hand. Watching as the blood ran freely down the side of his arm and soaking into the dark denim of his jeans and the bright white of his t-shirt. He then placed the blade at the same place on his other arm with much difficulty, due to the tremors in his hand but soon enough he had a matching, yet shallower cut on his other arm.

He felt his body begin to lighten and all this pain start to fade away. He smiled softly even though he could hear feet thundering up the stairs and bursting through doors, but he never saw who they belonged to. Because everything went black.

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