The Writings of a Random Teenage Author Person

(A/N: If you don’t like 1D, message me off anon, and if I get enough I will move this to another blog.  Otherwise please filter the tag “1d”)

Louis

God god god god god god god god god.

I really destroyed us this time.  I should’ve broken up with Eleanor.  But it wouldn’t have helped anything, it wouldn’t have helped us be together.  Harry would’ve been happy, but it would’ve been short lived.  Management would have never let us be public, nor would they ever ever ever let me break up with Eleanor now.  Dammit, Harry.

Harry

“Harry! Louis!” Niall called, hesitantly exiting to backstage.  ”Where’d you guys go? Haz? Lou?”

Outside, I heard Liam telling the audience that we were having “some minor difficulties” and that we’d be back as soon as possible.  I could barely breathe; my nose was running and I was suffocated by the sobs forcing their way into my mouth.

I didn’t know where I was running.  I just hoped it was away.  Away from Lou.

Suddenly, I smacked into someone’s head.  Immediately I assumed it was Lou.

“GET AWAY!” I screamed, shoving him, “YOU CAN’T FIX THIS ANYMORE.  YOU’RE WRONG, LOU, YOU’RE JUST SO WRONG! I WON’T LET YOU HURT ME THIS TIME.”

His arms embraced me, and I smelled Zayn’s cologne as it enveloped me.  My sobs quieted.  ”God, oh god.”  It was all I could say.  ”Oh god, Zayn.”

“It’s okay, Harry.  It’s okay.  Calm down.”  His hands were comforting as he patted my back and whispered to me.  ”It will all be okay, I promise.”

I felt the emotions building up again, rising from the pit of my stomach and forcing pressure into the back of my throat.  They fell like it was a thunderstorm, not stopping, relentlessly pouring from my eyes in an endless stream of saltwater.  I cried there, into Zayn’s shoulder, for I don’t know how long.  All I knew was that I needed Lou, I needed him so much.

Then I looked up.  I saw the barely existing light glint off Lou’s eyes.  Without thinking, I pushed myself away from Zayn and grabbed his face.  I saw the confusion in his eyes, but I knew he was smart.  I knew he would figure it out, and everything would be okay, and he wouldn’t hold it against me.  I knew it because he was the only friend I felt I could confide in right now.  The only one.

I looked into Zayn’s eyes.  ”This is for Lou.”

I kissed him.

I kissed Zayn Malik.

Louis

He kissed him! He kissed Zayn, right in front of my face.  He did it on purpose.  He did it to hurt me.

I couldn’t hear anything over the roaring in my ears.  Everything left me, the emotions, the burden, the tears and the soul.  Everything.  I felt so light.  Too light.

The roar in my ears was a waterfall, pouring every piece of me out into nowhere.

I felt my head hit the floor.

I was sucked into a black hole of unconsciousness.

Louis

When the concert started, I didn’t know what to do with myself.  I didn’t know how to act, how Harry would act, how any of this would turn out.  I was so scared.

But we went on anyways.  Acting like nothing had ever happened.

They couldn’t expect Larry Stylinson moments every concert, I guess.

Everything went fine.  My mask was perfect until Harry started acting up during I Wish.

She looks at Lou
The way that I would
Does all the things
I know that I could 
If only time could just turn back

His voice cracked.  Zayn raised an eyebrow at him, wondering what he was doing.  I looked at the ground, frustrated and confused.  What was I supposed to do?

Cause I’ve got three little words
That you’ve always ignored when I told you
Coz I see you with her
Slow dancing
Tearing me apart coz you don’t care
Whenever you kiss her
I’m breaking
Lou how I wish, that was me

“Dammit,” I cursed under my breath, “Dammit, Harry.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him wipe a tear from his eye.  Half of the crowd was silent, staring at him in confusion, and the other half continued to scream obliviously.  The urge to run across the stage and embrace him, tell him how much I loved him and run my fingers through his hair was unbearable.  I could feel everything pushing me towards him, his steady, emotionless gaze into the audience tempting me to scream everything straight into the microphone, to break down onstage and cry until I flooded the entire stadium.  He straightened his back and smiled at the crowd, shredding my heart into microscopic pieces.  

This was not how it was supposed to be.

Harry

I knew I hit him hard when I changed my solo.  I saw the way he dropped his facade and stared hard at the ground.  I saw the veins in his forehead pop out for a moment when he tried not to cry.  He heard me.

But he didn’t try to calm me down.  He didn’t run over to me, he didn’t embrace me.

I knew if it were me in his place I would have done exactly that.  He didn’t love me like I loved him.  It’s not that I loved him too much.  It’s just that I loved him too well.

But then he made his move.

As I approached the final chorus in Gotta Be You, Lou interrupted me.  This time even more of the crowd went silent, confused and dying to know what was happening.

He walked across the stage, smiling with that same, smoldering apologetic look in his eyes.  Did he think it would work?

And if you walk away
I know I’ll fade
Because there’s nobody else

Lou reached for my hand, and looked into my eyes.  As his fingers curled around mine, my heart began to thud in my chest, knocking around its contents and smashing against my rib cage.

It’s gotta be you
Only you, Harry
It’s gotta be you
I love you

The need to forgive him was almost absolutely irresistible, but the smile on his face appeared almost like a smirk to me, as if he expected me to smile back at him, to forgive him right there in front of everyone else.  Unlike him, who refused to say anything to anyone else.  To show anything to anyone else.

The anger exploded, washing its way through my entire body.  I ripped my hand away from his and stormed off the stage, leaving the rest of the audience and the other boys finally silent.

“Harry! Wait!” Lou called, “Wait please!”

I love you!

I could hear the unspoken words in his voice, the ones he still refused to release to me in front of the public.

Love me, my ass.

If he loved me he would understand.  But he didn’t.  He still refused to give me this one victory.

The tears spilled over and plopped loudly on the backstage setup as I walked briskly to the dressing room.  Lou’s footsteps thudded against the blackness, and his desperation resounded in the closed-off area.

I won’t let you win this time, Lou.  I swear I won’t.

I need to be happy too.

Sorry, it’s just because TWTMUP is kind of hard to continue by itself, coz it’s a different kind of story and I’m not quite sure myself where it’s going.

Nobody Else, on the other hand, is really easy to come up with ideas for because I know what I want the ending to be.

Harry

I love you.

The words reverberated in my head. They were hammers, pounding on my very being. I love you I love you I love you.

“AAAAGGHHH!” a strangled cry escaped my throat as I slammed my fist against the bedpost and began to sob.

“Harry, please!” I could hear his voice cracking, tugging at my heart to forgive him, to let us continue living in secret. But I knew I couldn’t be happy if it kept going like that. ”Please, Harry, I know I hurt you. I didn’t mean to.” His voice broke and the begging faded to a desperate whisper. ”Please, just open the door. I love you.”

I couldn’t. Not if I wanted things to change. Not if I wanted to be truly happy with him. I couldn’t keep letting Lou get the best of me every time, always still keeping Eleanor, always still keeping me, hurting me every step of the way. Killing me on the inside, stabbing my heart with shards of glass as if he thought I could endure the pain forever.

But I couldn’t.

I love you.

“JUST GO AWAY!” I cried, my breath uneven, “GET OUT OF HERE!”

Even then.

Even as the tears streaked down my cheeks faster and faster with every movement, even as my very core screamed at me not to, even then.

I knew that the odds were in his favor. That I would probably let him win.

He knew it, too. He knew he would always win. And that hurt. That the man I loved, who loved me too, could easily take advantage of my feelings for him. It killed me every time I surrendered, knowing that he had expected it the whole time.

I was sick of it.

You won’t win this time, Louis. I swear you won’t.

Louis

I knew that this time I had pushed him to the edge. That the chances were I wouldn’t be forgiven. I knew how much it killed him to give into me, every time. It killed him that I could take advantage of him with a snap of my fingers, the blink of an eye. I knew that I scarred him every time because he knew I always expected to win.

But this time, I finally didn’t. I didn’t expect to win.

I loved Eleanor. I really did. The steady kind of love. There was no passion, not like me and Harry had. There were no surprises with her. With Harry, everything was new. Everything was bright and fresh, burning with a passion, a want that could never be quenched no matter what happened. A need to satisfy that thirst, a need that could never be fulfilled, but that could be dulled by his presence. By his skin against mine, by his breath in my ear, by his smile and his eyes and the tone of his voice when he sang, the way he looked at me, the way no one else would ever feel the way we did. The way we knew that no one could ever feel this because our love was so immense, so unimaginably overwhelming when it took over every aspect of our essence every time we were together. It was spontaneous, forever wild, a fire like the sun exploding on gasoline, igniting every thing in this universe, in the next universe, in all the universes in between.

But it was still so easy to take for granted because I knew he felt the same way.

I was never able to love him as well as he loved me. I didn’t deserve the way he completed me, because I couldn’t complete him, no matter how much I wanted to, no matter how much I tried.

I wished I could love him better.

I wished I weren’t so selfish.

Harry

I cried myself to sleep that night.

Louis

I could taste the salt on my tongue.

My tears echoed in the dark.

Harry

It was over.

It was definitely over.

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(A/N: This is my first real-life people fanfic, please don’t kill me D: I’m trying! Plus, updates come on Saturdays at 9:00 AM PST)

Harry

“Fine!” I screamed, slamming the door in his face, “You just do what you want! I don’t care!”

I allowed my anger to pour over my guilt as his devastated face branded itself on my heart. ”I said it!” I yelled again, “I don’t care! I. Don’t. Care!”

It wasn’t my fault he refused to break up with Eleanor. It wasn’t my fault I was this angry. It wasn’t my fault that we just had to stay a secret because it could “harm our fanbase.” It wasn’t my fault that he didn’t love me enough to disregard management for a moment, long enough to tell the world, “I’m absolutely, utterly, irrevocably in love Harry Styles and he is absolutely, utterly, irrevocably in love with me.”

It wasn’t my fault he loved Eleanor more.

“Harry, please understand. I’m not cheating on you with Eleanor. I’m cheating on Eleanor with you. You’re the other man.”

“‘You’re the other man’ my ass,” I muttered to myself as I collapsed on our my bed, fighting the tears that slowly dripped down my cheeks. ”Stupid wanker.”

Louis

“Harry, please open the door,” I begged, hopelessly laying my palm on the cool wooden surface, “I’m sorry, but it has to be this way. Just let me explain.”

The silence crumpled my heart like tissue paper. ”Harry, please. I love you.”

I could hear his automatic, robotic response in my head. I could hear the little wavers in his voice over and over and over.

Not more than Eleanor.

The truth of the matter was that I did love him more than Eleanor. I loved him so much more. So much that I was willing to do whatever it took to keep our relationship going. To keep Harry.

But what I was doing hurt him. He wouldn’t understand if I said the only way to keep us going was to keep dating Eleanor. If I said it was for the public, he would tell me I didn’t love him enough to tell the world. I knew he wanted me to be happy, so I told him I loved her. I never said I loved her more. I just told him that it was for propriety. Because that’s how it was supposed to be. I told him Eleanor was first, not him. I told him that I was dating her first. He set us up.

I did it so we could be together, he said. So that management would let us be. Not so that you would break up with me. Not so that we wouldn’t work out.

I just wish I could tell him. I wish he would understand. But he won’t. I just want it to work out.

“Please, Harry,” I tried one more time, “Open the door. I love you.”

Not more than Eleanor.

Much more than Eleanor.

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