Suicidal Thoughts{Finished}

My hand started to shake as I raised the tip of the gun to my temple. I quickly found a pencil, all of the pre-written suicide notes came to my mind, pages and pages say who exactly made me feel this way- but only a few words were written; I love you, Luke. * TRIGGER WARNING *


7. 7

A\N hey guys I'm still working on the next chapter so it might take a while, I'm hoping to update tomorrow or Wednesday at the most!! 💕


After Luke left the bathroom, I stripped down to my bare skin. I decided not to look in the mirror, fearing it would ruin my whole day. I stepped into the shower, goose bumps traveling down my arms and legs. I shook off the feeling, letting the hot water travel down my sore back. I was only in the shower a few minutes, letting the water soak into my hair, when I felt a pair of arms wrapped around me from behind. At first, I was tense, but leaned into his strong figure. Luke's hand gently caressed my upper thigh, making tingles shoot down my spine. I was still sensitive with him touching me, it was so gentle, loving.

The water began to be all I heard, the soothing sound making this morning the best I had in a while. Despite the fact that I would have died last night if Luke hadn't had to play hero, this made me glad I hadn't died. We stood there in silence, our touch being our only way to communicate. As the water started to get cold, I turned towards his wet chest, leaning in and resting my head on it. His hands began to explore the dips and curves of my body, leaving with his finger prints tattooed on my skin. Luke's lips began to travel down my neck, and mine began to leave kisses on his cold collar bone. Even with me standing on my tippy toes, and him bending down, it was still a reach.

I can't tell you what being in love feels like, because we have our own definitions of being in love. But what I can tell you is that when you think of that person, you smile like an idiot because of all the stupid things they did and what they are going to do. When you're with that person, everything feels right, everything feels safe, everything feels complete. Like, just the thought of being separated with them, just gives you a horrible feeling in every fiber of your whole being. They give you everything breathing moment, every single aspect of your life, every laughter, every smile, every tear, every cry, a meaning. They give you a reason to believe.

That is exactly what Luke did.

Last night, as I wilted on the bathroom floor, with nothing but my thoughts to keep me company, I thought about my life. I noticed that if I was to die that night, and my life flashed before my eyes all I would see was Luke. Images of his smile and his body pressed against mine, every tear I held him through, every summer we had spent together. Because to me he was my life, and the only thing on my mind.

The water became ice cold, freezing the both of us in our positions. Luke turned around, putting the shower on the hottest setting. Though, it only went to a warm dull. After that, we just bathed ourselves and stepped out of the shower. I wrapped a clean white towel around my chest, running my brush through my hair.

"What were we going to do today, birthday boy?" I asked, casting a glance to him.

"My parents are throwing some giant surprise party," He chuckled from the other room, getting dressed into his clothes from the night before.

"Then how do you know about it?" I asked, stifling a laugh.

"They can't keep a secrete."

I thought about how they never told me, even when we had each others numbers. I didn't think Luke's family liked me much, they weren't the nicest people, but who are nowadays? I tried to push the thought from the back of my mind, and tried to decide what I should wear for the evening.

"Is it big and fancy, like paparazzi and famous people or big causal, like family, friends, semi-famous people..." My voice carried off, giving more examples.

"Semi fancy, semi casual, really big."

I sighed at the thought, wonder how many important people I was going to be meeting. Don't get me wrong, I love meeting famous people, it's just some of them I get really starstruck with, and look like a complete fucking idiot. That's basically how I met Luke, though, so I guess nothing bad could really come out of it. I had just moved to Australia like two months before meeting him, and was jamming out to an illegal download of 'Heartbreak Girl'. I bumped into him and my cup of iced tea spilled all over my favourite, and only, tank top I had. He said sorry a bunch of times, and I was basically there, with my heart stopped, and just staring at him. I didn't care if what he spilled my damn tea on, it was Luke Hemmings. However, I never told him that I used to be a fan, that would be weird, right? Like dating a girl who used to be in love with every single band mate? I just never told him and took him up on his offer of buying me another iced tea.

I walked out of the bathroom, still holding the towel close to my body. I looked through my drawers, sighing to myself. I grabbed the few things I could find, and changed into them. I had to wear the tights under the shorts because it had ended up being too high up on my thigh. They would inevitably ride up, revealing my white-scarred canvas. The cat crop top, along with the high waisted shorts was enough fabric to cover evidence of the night before.

*Luke's pov*

I sat on Ariana's bed, wondering about last night. Had she really wanted to kill herself? Or was she just cutting? Lord knows I'm the most awkward person on earth with normal situations. But to deal with something like this? I didn't know how to do it. I'd rather say nothing at all than accidentally hurt my precious girlfriend. I didn't know why she thought she was ugly, she wasn't, and that's a fact. She is beautiful, but not like those girls in the magazines. She is beautiful, for the way she thought. She is beautiful for that sparkle in her eyes when she talked about something she loves. She is beautiful, for her ability to make other people smile even if she's sad. No, she isn't beautiful for something as temporary as her looks. She is beautiful, deep down to her soul.

I picked up my phone from the night stand on Ariana's side of the bed. I heard her come in, but didn't pay much attention. I looked back in my notifications to the picture I posted of her a while earlier, and scrolled through the replies. I found a few funny, replied and retweeted them. I scrolled past a few that weren't the nicest towards Ariana. I shook it off, thinking the words could mean a lot of things. However, it seemed as I scrolled past two dozen, I started to realize the whole reason she hated her self that much. She showed obvious signs of it, and I had decided not to take notice.

I think if I had to choose what I hated about myself, it would be how oblivious I always was. The damn thing could be slapping me in a face a dozen times and I wouldn't understand until it looked me in the eye and told me. Hell, even then I wouldn't think anything of it. I didn't know why, but I had a hunch. Maybe it was because of the way I grew up; every one had something nice to say about one and other. My mother would make some sort of easy cake and every one would compliment on how great it was. No one really even opened up, just showed the the out layer of themselves, which was never much.

I didn't realize Ariana was by my side as I was scrolling through tweet after tweet about how she looked unappealing. I leaned towards her and pecked her cheek, lending a smile.

"I love you," I murmured softly, taking her hand in mine and using my thumb to caress the back of her hand.

Ariana just nodded, looking too deep in thought to actually process what I was saying. I set my phone done, wrapping two arms around her mid section and pulling her into my lap.

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