Larry Stylinson - One-Shots

I Should've Kissed You

What did he mean? Goodbye? Does that mean... No. No, no, no, no, no. Harry can't kill himself. Why? Oh my god, no. I have to save him.

I regret everything. I regretted all those years. Telling Harry he wasn't worth it. Because that was a wrong statement. I'm not worth it. Well, that's an understatement. When Harry told me he loved me, I should've kissed him. I should've just kiss him, and told him I loved him, too. But I didn't. I picked up his fragile little heart, and crushed it. I can only imagine how much I hurt Harry.

I shouldn't have let him go. I loved him. I did. I was scared. I didn't know what the world would say, and quite frankly, I did want to know. I didn't want to be hated. I didn't want to bring the boys down. But the thing was, Harry would've been there with me. And if Harry was there, I wouldn't have had anything to worry about. People will go through anything and everything when they're in love. I guess I just wasn't one of those people.

I wish I'd said it. Said those three little words. My life took the wrong turn. I gave up everything, for absolutely nothing. I threw it all away. And now, I just don't know if I can turn back.

~

I ran. I ran and ran and ran. I told my roommate, Stan, I didn't know when I'd be back and I ran. I ran down the streets of London, down sidewalks and past people. I ran through parks and past trees, until I finally got to that field. I ran through the thick grass until I got to the big tree that sat right in the middle.

Our spot.

There, under that tree, I saw you. You looked so still. I hadn't seen you in years, but you looked so much more unhealthy than before. Your skin was pale, and I mean pale. You were white. Your curls were long and tangled, and your body; You were abnormally thin. It looked as if you were just skin and bones in his mid-section, as if you hadn't eaten in years. I could see your ribs sticking out, your arms and legs were skinny. Really skinny. Yet you still somehow managed to look beautiful.

My first reaction was to scream. I screamed and screamed and screamed. I screamed until my voice went hoarse, and they just turned into sobs. I knew you were dead, but I didn't want to believe it. I sobbed, as I knelt down to the ground and opened one of your eyes with my fingers. They weren't even green. They were dull, lifeless and distant.

It's been years since I've even touched you. But I feel sparks, and that says a lot, because your not even alive. I didn't want to think that though.

I looked at your pale face. There was a line of blood coming from your mouth, like you had been choking or coughing up blood. I looked around. I saw your phone, a knife and an empty bottle of pills. Then, tucked under the phone was an older looking photo.

I picked it up curiously but quickly, and unfolding it. I looked at it, then I realized what it was. It was us and the boys. We were on the X-Factor stage, right after we were told that we had made it through. We all looked so young. Niall was jumping up and down like a maniac, Zayn was just shocked, but happy, and Liam was relieved, head in hands. Then there was you and I. You picked me up and spun me around. But the thing was, you barely knew me then. Yet it was love at first.

And it's only come to this for me to realize that.

I set the picture down, heart melting and breaking a bit at the fact that you kept a picture of the first Larry moment with you all the time. Why did you do this to me? I didn't know what to do.

I picked up your left arm. It was covered in ruby blood, the entire arm. There were multiple cuts that were extremely deep, and desperately needed stitches. Why would you do this to yourself?

You were worth it. You were beautiful. You were talented. You were handsome. You would've been loved. You were perfect. You weren't a fag. You shouldn't have been treated that way. I hate myself more that I've ever hated myself in my life. Why do I have to be such a goddamn coward?! I'm a wuss! A fucking baby that's afraid if what other people would think, when what I really needed was right in front of me.

I just went into panic mode.

I screamed again. I don't know why, but I did. 'Harry! Harry, answer me! You can't be dead! I loved you!' is scream over and over, slamming my fist onto your chest helplessly. I picked up your wrist and felt for a pulse. Nothing. I put my hand over your heart, feeling for a beat. Nothing.

'FUCK!' I had screamed aloud, standing up and running a hand through my styled hair. 'Dammit Harry! Why did I do this?! Why can't I just turn back the fucking clock!"

My eyes flickered back down to the bloody knife. You had taken pills. To end the pain, without feeling anything. I didn't deserve that.

I picked up the large knife in a steady right hand. 'I'm sorry Harry', I had whispered, then held the knife over my heart. 'You'll never understand how much I loved you,' I had said, before plunging the knife into my heart, falling to the ground with Harry.

That was what it had to take for Louis to realize the one thing he had been needing the whole time.

He loved him all along. He was just afraid.

Fin.