The first two parts (a part is separated by '~') are Harry's pov, second two parts are Louis'. (the very last paragraph is third person)
~•~•~
It shouldn't have happened. I shouldn't have felt the way I did. I didn't like it. I didn't want it. I didn't need it. You didn't understand me though. You were so fucking oblivious. You'd never realize the facts. You'd never take a moment to realize what was right in front of you all along.
I don't know if it's what you needed, or what you wanted. I don't know if you felt the same, or if you were only there to hate, but it hurt me. You called me Fag. Worthless. Loser. Freak. Unnatural. A disgrace. And you know what? It really hurt.
I remember the X-Factor days. I was sixteen, you were eighteen. We were still young and innocent, had our whole lives ahead of us. And I remember we were best friends. I remember a lot, Louis. I remember the audition, when they told me I had made it through, all the way up to the day I stood up on that stage, and I didn't hear my name being called. It broke my heart. But then we were called back in, and they told us that they just couldn't let us go. I remember when I picked you up and spun you around. I remember the X-Factor days as the happiest days of my life.
Then you asked me to move in with you. So I did, of course. That was when the dreaded feeling started to arise. I started feeling things I shouldn't feel. I was scared, and I didn't know where else to turn. So I told you. I told you I was gay, and that I was gay for you.
And you took it horribly.
You kicked me out of our flat. I had to stay with Zayn. You left One Direction - only months after our careers had started - to become a solo artist. Then you told the entire world that I came out to you. I never thought you could be so low. But I was wrong. You had to tell the world that I came out to you FOR you. You broke me, and Louis, I just don't think I can be fixed anymore.
Everyone hated me. I lost six million twitter followers. I bet the other million were inactive accounts. No one cared about me anymore. Some just stopped listening to One Direction altogether, because I was in it.
And do you even know how much it hurt? It hurt a lot, Louis.
But then, you came back. Not to One Direction, but you just came back to visit us. To see how we were doing. You were making it big, but One Direction was being torn apart. We missed you. But you didn't give a shit about us. You met so many stars, went so many places, made so much money. You were huge, a star worldwide. You won so many awards, and where was One Direction? Nobody knew. No one gave a damn about us.
When you came back to say hey, you went to each of our flats individually. But not mine. You called me. And you know what? I kept your number through all of that. I guess I'm just afraid of letting go. So I answered. You told me that I was pathetic. That I was worthless. That you never wanted to be my friend again. So I began cutting.
Where did I go wrong Louis? I loved you, but you couldn't have any sympathy.
Every day, I just had to tell myself that this was all a nightmare. But I knew it wasn't. This was real. And the thing was, I couldn't wake up. You couldn't wake me up.
I never fell out of love. I'm still madly in love, and don't even know how. You treated me like a dick. You hurt me. You crushed my heart. You tore me apart. But I guess I was too afraid to let the old Louis go. I missed you.
So maybe I cut and maybe that's why I wear bracelets constantly and maybe I'm despressed and maybe I'm anorexic and and maybe I'm weak and maybe I hate myself and maybe I wish I was dead twenty-five eight and maybe I'm in love and maybe if you slit my throat right now my last words would be me gasping an appology for bleeding on your shirt.
