The Initials on My Wrist - 1D Fanfiction

Leah has always wanted to meet one direction. She has a bedroom covered in posters, a billion t-shirts and lets not mention how many concert tickets she has pinned to her wall, because there are more than enough. When her Mom becomes their manager, Leah, being 19, would much rather take her Mom's offer and come on tour with them instead of staying home alone for six months and tags along. The only problem is that it is the middle of summer, and she wont expose her wrists. That counts as sweater's, long sleeve shirts and warm jackets, only to hide two letters, the initials of the person who she secretly loves, and always has. What happens when that same person, doesn't love her back?



Leah's POV

I know I'm driving myself mad. Mad in love with Harry, lying to myself that  I don't, lying to myself that I do, Mad in love with Zayn, which I never question, mad in love with love itself. But I'm mad over something else too. Something I started the day Harry broke up with me... and addiction almost. My razor blade. The sharpness, the blood stained-glistening-eye catching- silver blade. Ive driven myself insane, to wishing I had never agreed to this, and I do. I want to go home, and I will. The second I can. I will go home, and cover my cuts.

But now I lay on the floor, the newly opened cut I first did after Harry dumped me and I went into the hospital. Three cuts remain, the first initial inbetween two and the second initial inbetween the last. I stare at them, sick with myself, until I hear more banging on the door. I thought they left me alone, but no. I dive my blade back into my skin, when I soon feel week. The things around me start to disappear, almost. My thoughts disappearing. My mouth being zippered, before I let out one last word. "Sorry." And I scream.

Zayn's POV


"Sorry." And she screams.

"Bro, you gotta go in there. If someone deserves to see her, it's you." Harry says, crying along with the rest of us. "Maybe it's nothing. She's a girl, what could be so bad? Everybody does this. Well, girls anyways." I say, lying to myself. "What.. What if she cut?" Harry cries, getting a sob out of Louis. I slap Harry. "Don't even think about stuff like that. Harry Edward Styles, if you say something like that again," I threaten, but he looks at me with his puppy dog eyes. Maybe not meaning too, but he looks so torn. Nothing's fine I'm torn- Sorry.

"Please," He chokes, and I nod at him. "Allen!" I shout. "Pull over!"

Harry's POV

What did I do? She's in there killing herself. I need to talk to her but she won't answer. I take one look at my phone, and text her.

From Harry: Don't hurt yourself. I love you. Remember that.

From Leah: I'm sorry.

From Harry: For what?

From Harry: Hello?


I type, and sob at the same time. I just hope she' alright.

Zayn walks in holding a hammer. "I bought this. Maybe we can break the door." He says. I alert Allen to start driving again and Zayn walks over to the door, quietly slamming the lock.

Zayn's POV

I start to hammer more forcefully when it doesn't work. "It's going!" I say to the boys, and they get a sign of hope in their eyes. I for one, just am terrified to see what's there. The lock becomes loser and loser, so I try the doorknob. Still locked. "I'll get it soon." I state, full of faith. I can hear it breaking, the bolt waddling and wiggling, until finally, it breaks free. "I got it!" I whisper. I then motion for the boys to go to the bunks. "I don't want you to see if she's maybe like showing whats on her wrist, like the marker or whatever. I also want to make sure everything in there is rated G, ok?" I say. Harry is still crying as hard as ever, but he is able to say "Please tell us she is okay, and will you promise to atleast tell us or call us in five minutes?" He asks, hoping I will say yes. "Of course mate." I say.

I creak the door open, and silently flip my head in her direction. I let out a war cry, and run over to her. The blade is lying on the floor, blood in the carpet is all I see, before I walk over to her unconscious body and see she is clutching my bandanna. "You were right Harry," Is all I can choke, before stroking her hair. She is still breathing, thank goodness. I turn her wrist over, three cuts. But I also notice the two little cursive letters written in between.









Z M.

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