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.
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.
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.