Larry Stylinson - One-Shots

I Should've Kissed You

So you probably wouldn't be disappointed in me right now. You'd probably be laughing. You don't care. You could watch me do what I'm about to do. I'm not proud, but you wouldn't care. My entire life wouldn't care.

So here I am; a bottle of pills in hand, a butchers' knife in the other, only in my boxers. Wanna know where I am? This used to be my favorite place. Our favorite place. Remember that big open field we used to go to, just to get away? Remember the old willow tree we used to lay under, and just stare up at the sky, talking about random things. And that was where you told me you would always love me. Maybe it wasn't in the way I had wished since the start, but you told me our friendship would never break. Right under that willow tree.

And you lied.

I don't know where to turn anymore. I'm broken, Louis.

~

I picked up the knife. It was a huge. And sharp. I took a moment to just stare at it, seeing my reflection crystal clear in the steel.

Worthless. Disgraceful. Understatement. Faggot. Loser. Pathetic. Wrong. Wannabe. Ugly. Gross. Immoral. Pitiful. Gay. Unworthy. Forever alone.

I let out a shuddering sigh, and set the bottle of pills by the trunk of the willow tree. I brought my knees up to my chest, afraid of the world. My curls hung in front of my eyes lazily.

Cutter. Anorexic. Bulimic. Depressed. Anxiety. I'm lost and I need help.

I clenched my eyes shut, bringing the knife to my wrist hesitantly. I let a few more tears slip down my pale, bony cheeks.

"I loved you" Slice. "I fucking loved you" Slice. "I'm so sorry" Slice. "I'll always love you" Slice. "I'm so, so sorry" Slice. "Oh god, why am I even apologizing?" Slice. "You don't," Slice. "even care" Slice.

I dropped the bloodied knife. The cuts were deep - horribly deep. I would need to go to a hospital, but there's no point. The blood kept rising from the eight large cuts I had created. They coloured my entire left arm. My forearm eventually was completely dreanched in dark red, becoming horribly numb.

I picked up my black iPhone and dialed Louis' number reluctantly. After three rings, he picked up.

"Hello?" I heard the angelic, perfect voice through the phone, but refusing to melt into it.

"L-Louis," I stuttered breathlessly.

Louis let out a groan. "Look, if this is another fan, I don't know how you got my number, but -" he sighed.

"No!" I quickly retorted. "I-It's Harry. Harry Styles. I know you hate me, but hear me out. I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything. Ruining our lives, ruining my life, ruining One Direction, ruining myself. It's all my fault. I'm at our spot, Lou. If you remember. I just needed to say goodbye, to the one I never stopped loving. So, goodbye, Louis. I'm sorry I wasn't good enough. It was all my fault. I didn't ask to fall in love," I said and quickly hung up before he could so much as reply. I could only sit there and sob for a minute, breathing heavily. I didn't understand how this world went on so happily, when I was here, now. I didn't understand where I went wrong.

Before I realized what I was even doing, I had the full bottle of pills in my hand, quickly tipped as many as I could into my mouth, swallowing, then repeating, until they were all gone. And it wasn't until then, that I knew I could finally be happy.

~

"I-It's Harry," My heart fluttered. It was Harry who had called, not some crazed fan. "Harry Styles. I know you hate me, but hear me out. I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything. Ruining our lives, ruining my life, ruining One Direction, ruining myself. It's all my fault. I'm at our spot, Lou. If you remember. I just needed to say goodbye, to the one I never stopped loving. So, goodbye, Louis. I'm sorry I wasn't good enough. It was all my fault. I didn't ask to fall in love," he said, then I only heard two faint beeps, noting that the line went dead.