well, you couldn't be that man that I adored
Title: well, you couldn't be that man that I adored
Pairing: Louis/Zayn
Word Count: 4 700 ish
Warnings: some homophobia, 2. person narrative
Disclaimer: This is my own fiction and I don't own the songs or the boys
Summary: We see Louis' and Zayn's relationship evolve through the years
A/N: This is a song!fic that includes all the songs from Up All Night. Title is from Torn because that seemed the most appropriate even though it's ~sligthly misleading. Comments are always lovely!
what makes you beautiful
You’re five and he’s lying next to you, sniffling. Your hands are linked and you remember what you told him. Always. His dad left them and he’s sad because his mum cries a lot. He doesn’t want to leave her, ever. You tell him he has to, you both have to go to school soon! He shakes his head. No. It makes you sad. He’d rather be with his mum than you. You’re not as important. You pout and say you don’t need him. His eyes turn big and sorry and he grips you hard. I love you too. I love you both. You nod, because you love your mum, and your baby sister. You just don’t love her as much as Louis though. She’s a girl. And a baby at that. You’re special, you whisper almost as if it’s a secret. Not knowing that later it would be. Maybe if you knew you would have screamed it. You love everyone, you say and he nods gravely. His hand lays securely in yours and there’re still dried tears on his cheek. That’s why I love you, you think. You kiss his forehead, just like mum does to you and he smiles and wipes his snot on his sleeve. And you can’t help but smile too, because he’s your bestest friend in the whole wide world. His eyes are shining and it suddenly hits you. You’re beautiful you whisper and pet him on the head.
gotta be you
You’re eight and you’ve run behind the shed at school. You’ll never forgive him. He’s stupid and you hate him. Hate him. He calls you name. He sounds small and nervous. Zayn! Zayn, I know you’re there. You don’t answer him, but he’s your best friend so he finds you anyway. Why are you mad? You can’t answer, you don’t know. So you do what you always do when something confuses you. You act out and you push him, hard. His eyes fill with tears when he falls startled to the ground, but you don’t feel bad. He deserves it, you hate him.
Go back to Beth, you say and you can’t help but pout. He stands up with a swift move. You’re a jerk. He’s staring angry at you and you repeat your request. Do you want her for yourself? You don’t. He moves closer to you and you try to back away from him, uncertain. Your back hits the wall of the shed with a thump and he’s standing in front of you, too close, he never did have personal boundaries. His mouth is inches from yours and you look at him wide eyed. I saw you kiss Lisa. He says it like it’s a betrayal and you want to apologise, but he kissed Beth too. And why shouldn’t you kiss Lisa? It’s not fair. I thought about you though, you whisper and he suddenly smiles wide and bright and takes your hand, drags you out to the playground again. That’s what I thought.
one thing
You’re twelve and you’re lying in the tent in your backyard. You said it was stupid and you complained to your mothers, but now you’re happy. It’s pretty awesome, your own tent. You’re together and it’s all dark except the flash light that illuminates your features. Your hands are not intertwined. They had talked about being gay in school today and Louis hadn’t stopped staring at you. Maybe I am. You know what he’s talking about, but you place your hand over his mouth, won’t let the words escape him so the world can hear. No. He’s scared and you want to comfort him, but he needs to understand.
There’s nothing wrong with it.
‘Course not. You don’t look at him, you won’t tell him that it is. But someone has to and you’re the only one that can. Before you can open your mouth though, you feel soft lips over your own and you open your eyes in shock, stares at him. He’s right above you, his eyes bores themselves into yours, his lips are still, but placed firmly over your mouth. You can’t move, your entire body is stiff. Your heart is pounding and it’s ready to burst out of your chest. Finally he moves away from you, you’ve just laid there the entire time, it feels like hours. I don’t think it’s because you’re a boy. You don’t answer. It’s just something about you, you know? You do.
more than this
You’re fourteen and you wonder if he just likes to screw you over. She’s pretty and funny and she has brown hair and freckles. Her name is Beth and you wonder what happened to it’s gotta be you. You remember her. You remember when he kissed her for the first time. Now he always kisses her and you don’t know what to do. You kiss her friends though, all of them. Didn’t know you were such a player, Zayn. You ignore him. You don’t say you hate him like before, but you do. You hate her more. Because when he dances it’s not with you and when he walks the streets it’s not with you and when he locks the door it’s not with you inside. He doesn’t kiss you anymore, he doesn’t seem happy either. He holds her hand, she laughs at his jokes and you look at the two of them together. I think I’m gay, Zayn. Liar. He’s watching you and you’re afraid you’re going to lose him. I can love you so much more. His eyes are unbelievably sad and you wonder when that happened. So why won’t you?
up all night
You’re fifteen and the music is blasting, there are people everywhere. You’ve just fucked Geneva up the wall. It was hard and rough and you should feel sorry, because it didn’t matter. You can’t walk straight, your feet tripping over each other and you feel the alcohol in your veins. It’s all dizzy and fluorescent lights, too many colours.
You find him in the crowd, in his ace. Laughing and gesticulating wildly, drinking from the red plastic cup. Wanna go upstairs? It’s a hidden meaning, a challenge. Sure, Zayn. You fuck him slowly. It hurts for him and you think he deserves it. Think how much it hurt when you fucked Beth the first time? His eyes widen, but he doesn’t answer. You’ve ruined it for him, it was supposed to be special. He tries to breathe, you’re still going slow, but you go all the way, as deep as you can. There are tears streaking down his cheeks and he tries to grasp your hand. Please- Please don’t be angry with me when we do this. You laugh, it’s broken and hollow. You briefly wonder when you turned into this. You go harder and he clenches around you, a scream releases itself from his lips. You don’t know if it’s from pleasure or pain, you decide you don’t want to. I’ll always be angry with you. You made me like this. This is your fault. You’re not slow anymore, you are quick and precise, and you come deep inside of him. You stay there and watch as he gets himself off. You stay inside until you soften, and he smiles, like it’s a victory. This is right. You finally move out of him and leave the bed, painfully aware of how it must have looked if anyone came in. After you’ve dressed you turn towards him, he’s lying naked, sprawled and you’ve never seen anyone more beautiful.
No. It’s not. You pretend you don’t hear his sobs as you leave. You keep drinking and finger another girl in the bathroom. You get a text at four am. You having fun, staying up? You don’t answer, you just cry.
I wish
You’re seventeen and the only good thing that’s happening is that Beth’s out of the picture. It doesn’t help though, because in it is Hannah. Blonde and beautiful and no one can fail but notice how completely different she is from you. It’s the school dance and you can’t breathe. You’re suffocating. Why does it hurt so much seeing them together? Your hand is trembling and Rebecca smiles and hands you another punch. I’m fine. She knows you’re not. He doesn’t notice you anymore, it’s like he’s given up. Every time you’re together you want to tell him to forget the last few years. It’s him you love, you never say it though. They’re dancing, it’s slow and he can’t see your face. But he must feel your burning gaze in his back. The slow dancing reminds you of when you fucked. That’s what it was. Nothing more, nothing less. It was pretty perfect to be so fucking bad. You haven’t even noticed you’ve walked up to them. You turn a shade redder as you realise and they stop their movements. For the first time in months he’s looking straight at you and you want to tell him so badly. Yeah, it was. You kiss him later that night and his lips are soft and his smile is so, so bright. It feels right and that scares you. I’ve wanted to do that every day the last couple of months. Every time I saw you together. He links your hands and you realise that’s what you’ve missed the most. That’s innocent, that’s okay. I know Zayn. I know.
tell me a lie
You’re nineteen and you can’t believe this is it. Everything you’ve been through together, all those years, girls, fights, parties, everything. You love him. You remember when you were five and you found him beautiful because he loved so much, so many, fully. You don’t anymore, it’s his worst quality. Two years. You tell him. And this is hard for him and you don’t help. You’ve always known he would leave you. He has always wanted to come out, tell your friends, your family, everyone. You’ve refused, this is not something people should know. I’m sorry. You’ve gotten drunk, fucked other girls before going back and apologising to him. After a night together making love you broke the mirror and he had to drive you to the emergency. You were trembling as the doctor removed the broken glass from your hand.
What happened here? Fuck. I fell for a homophobic arse, is what happened here. You wince and don’t even get mad at the fact that he has spilled your most sacred secret. You look for judgement in the doctor’s eyes the rest of the time you’re there, you don’t find any. You cry at night and you yell at him, tell him what an abomination he is. You make him go on dates and he begs you to let go. Let go of the hate you carry. You can’t.
You’ve always known he would leave, but you never thought it was because he would find another person. A person he loves more than you. It fucking hurts you tell him. Why? He looks so tired and you’re only teenagers. You didn’t think it was possible to hurt so much. You want the truth? You shake your head. No. You love him, you have since you were eight and found him kissing Beth George in the school ground. And whatever happened since, you’ve always known he has loved you too. That’s what made the both of you stay. Not if it is that you’re over me. You look at each other and he nods silently. Okay…I’ll lie.
taken
You’re twenty-one and he’s seducing you. You know he is. You also know you will resent him if you fall for it, more importantly he knows it, he doesn’t stop though. He just wants you to break up. He doesn’t care what happen after that. You don’t understand. He left you. He walked out on you, not the other way around. He has no right. You’ve met another girl. You haven’t grown tired of her, you haven’t screwed things up, if anything you’ve done it all right, you’re happy. For the first time in your life you think gloomily, before you shake your head. That’s not true. Maybe it scares him. Maybe it scares him to see the relief on your face every time you’re with her, to not see any worry. You’re so beautiful, Zayn. It’s like he can’t have you together. Like he can’t see the person he loves with someone that isn’t him. Doesn’t he realise you’re going through the exact same thing? That you feel just the same watching them? She’ll never have to know, babe. It’s not like you haven’t done the same to him before. It’s a reason he knows how to play this game. He’s accusing you, like he can see the thoughts that are flying inside of your head. He finally understood the pattern, at last. Bravo. Beth, Hannah, now Eleanor. And what, this is your revenge? You don’t want him, it’s wrong, that’s why you let go. That’s why you accepted that he left, because maybe, just maybe it was for the best. Now he won’t let you be happy. His eyes are predatory, like he won’t let her have you. Like he’ll do anything to keep you here. Like you’re his. This wasn’t a part of his plan when he left, you realise. You weren’t meant to move on. You’ve thought about it too Zayn. I’ve seen you watching me, watching the boys and girls I bring to the flat. Watching me with El. You beg him, you beg him not to ruin this. He’s too good, he won’t be able to live with the guilt of what he has done to her. Is he really willing to throw that relationship on the boat, just for a night with you? Just so your relationship will shatter? You really like her and it makes you sick that you’re even considering this. But, no. You won’t be weak. You’re not going to let him make you want this, make him tell you it’s okay, that it’s normal. God, I love you Zayn. You’re shaking, but you’re moving closer, gravitating towards him. He always knows what to say, how to make your defences crumble. I’m happy. It’s not a lie, you are. You’re happy because you don’t look at yourself in the mirror anymore and feel disgusted at what you see. You’re not feeling paranoid every time someone’s eyes linger at you a few seconds longer than normal. He nods, like that’s the worst part. And maybe it is. If you just were a bit better at hiding it, if you hadn’t shoved it his face every chance you got, if you hadn’t pushed him to his breaking point you wouldn’t have been here, struggling against him. Failing. You’re like a mot and he’s the flame. Just one last time, baby. The alcohol is clogging your brain and you should have known better than to drink alone with him. I can’t lose you. You feel a pang of guilt, because all he want is to be loved, one way or another. It still doesn’t justify what he’s doing to you now. I’m thinking of you every day, did you know that? Of course you know that. You think about him too, but he’s breaking the rules. You’re not supposed to tell each other. Do you think about me, Zayn? You whimper, he’s so close and you can smell his cologne and beneath it, him. His smell, the smell that’s always made you feel safe. No, Lou. He’s cocking his head and bites his lip. No, you’re not thinking about me? He’s taunting you, but behind the facade you can see a small look of fear. Fear that maybe you’re over him. He refuses to give up though, he’s licking at your ear and you shiver. Your body betrays you and you tilt your head back towards him, just an inch. It’s enough, because he turns you around with a sudden force. Your hands are around his neck before either of you can blink and you’re biting his lip, your mouths colliding. It’s all tongue and teeth and God, you’ve missed this. How could you ever have stopped? It’s desperate and messy and over far too soon. You’re both lying in the bed and you can already feel the shame wash over you. What the fuck is wrong with you? How can you like this? Is God testing you, does he want you to fail? Now you’ve got it out of your system, are you going to ignore me again? There’s no hate or resentment in his voice, he just sounds sad and fragile. It seems you just want me when there’s someone else, anyway. Can’t blame me for doing the same. You take his hand even though it physically hurts to touch him and tangle them together, comfort him. You hear what he’s saying, but you still do. You still blame him.
I want
You’re still twenty-one and you’re fighting. You haven’t fought like this in years. He’s screaming fucking fag at you and you see red because he knows. He knows how much that hurts. It doesn’t matter that you’ve called him it before, he does it -not because he means it- but because he wants you to hurt.
I just want you to love me, is that so bad? You do love him, you love him more than anyone in the entire world. You tell him and he throws his arms in the air, his voice high-pitched. Yeah, but not enough to tell the world, right? You count to three silently. You’ve been through this, so many times. I want to be able to hold your hand in the public, Zayn. You hate it when he turns like this. I want to tell people I’m with you when they ask if I’m single. It gives you a bad conscience. I want to kiss you when we’re at clubs. It makes you feel like you’re not enough. I want to tell mum I have a boyfriend, that I’m happy. It makes you want to hit something, because you didn’t ask for this. You didn’t ask for him to fall for you, to make you fall for him. I want the world to know you’re not this womanizer you pretend to be. He’s crying now and it reminds you of all those times you’ve seen him cry. Sometimes it seems you’re the only reason he does. What exactly is it you want, Louis? What do you want me to do? He’s kissing you, hard and possessive. Saliva are hanging between your lips like threads when he speaks next. I want you to love me more than you hate yourself, more than you care about the society’s opinions. He’s breathing in your mouth, his eyelashes brushes your cheek bone. You don’t know if you can.
everything about you
You’re twenty-two and the world is at your feet. You got the job and he says you have to celebrate. You kiss him fiercely and thank him. He always believed in you. Always said you would make it. You hit the clubs. Don’t fuck any random girls, okay? You want to kiss the grin straight off his face, but you’re standing in the middle of the line so you settle with a smirk. Don’t exclaim your love for dicks. He laughs out loud and people turn around. It flutters in your stomach, like butterflies are flying in 100 km per hour. His eyes crinkle and he punches you lightly in the arm, a small, secret smile in the corner of his mouth, your smile. Ten years you’ve loved him, but now as you look at him, drinking, laughing and eying the people walking by it feels like two months. He still surprises you and it brings you back to when you were twelve and kissed for the first time. There was something with you he couldn’t define, that one thing. There are a hundred things that make you love him, that’s always made you love him. It’s the way he drinks his tea in the morning, sipping at it, it’s the way he disappears every time the flat needs vacuuming, it’s the way he kisses your neck when he wakes up and the way he says the rudest jokes with a muttered voice in the most unfitting situations. It’s everything you say and he smiles a crooked smile like he has any idea of what you’re talking about. Is it now?
same mistakes
You’re twenty-four and you’re absolutely certain you’ve been here before. More than once. This isn’t a game, you know? It’s our lives. Something’s different though. He wants this to work so badly, his eyes are pleading. He doesn’t know how long he can continue this. We know the problem, babe. Knowing doesn’t make it any easier. In fact, it makes it worse. Fighting, fucking, breaking up, pining, destroying, making up, making love, hiding, fighting, fucking. You always come back though. It’s dark outside, in the middle of the winter, cold. We’re not going forward. He doesn’t blame you, he doesn’t have to. You do it enough for you both. I’m waiting, Zayn. I’ve waited for so long. He left you once, he promised he’d never do it again. He might have lied. I can’t decide this right now. He doesn’t scream, he doesn’t cry, he doesn’t hit. It’s unsettling. You can’t sleep through your life. This won’t go away. You hit the wall with such force it leaves a mark. He doesn’t even flinch. We’re fine. He goes to the kitchen and makes dinner and you sit down and eat. It’s uncomfortable and there’s too much tension. How long are you going to keep saying that? He left you when you were fourteen because you didn’t dare to take him to the movies and dinner. He left you when you were seventeen because you refused to be his date to the prom. He left you when you were nineteen because you neglected him and he found someone who didn’t. He left you when you were twenty-one because you didn’t allow him to tell the world who he was. It’s history. You see the pattern, it doesn’t make any difference. You wonder how many times he will leave, there’s still so much left of life. It hits you then, he’s warning you. We’re not going forward. He’s telling you he won’t keep leaving and coming back, it won’t continue like this. Are you going to stop letting us repeat the same mistakes over and over?
save you tonight
You’re twenty-five and he’s feeding him lies. How can a man like that be so cynical, how can Louis not see it? You hear them talk at night, hushed voices in the dark, 3 am. You deserve so much more, Lou. Who the fuck does he think he is? He doesn’t need saving from you. He doesn’t need him to scoop him up and make life easier. We can leave Louis, just the two of us. He has met you twice, still he thinks he knows you, knows your demons. I mean, how much can he care? He sees that you’re hurting. Many have loved him, boys, girls... he’s easy to love. You don’t blame him for loving him too. You understand. This is not a good relationship. Next time you see him he will be all smiles and laughter and have no idea that you know what he’s plotting. That you know he’s trying to take him away from you. I would do anything you ever asked of me. He’s so good: responsible, goofy, handsome, kind. It’s easy to fall in love with him too. I’m right here, I wish you would see me. He’s not unhappy, this is not a bad relationship. You just don’t give him what he needs, he can. I would always try my best, Lou. I’d always try. Does he? He’s twisting it, he’s making him doubt you, hell he’s even making you doubt you. Hey, hey don’t cry Lou. You know he’s giving. He’s giving and you’re taking and he’s making you both aware of it. It’s just, you’ve lost so much of your light, you know? You’re fading. The thing is, you’re not sure if it’s possible to leave him. He has always come back to you, but he can give him the world, that must be hard to walk away from. I just want you to be happy, to take you away from what’s making you not. He doesn’t need any saving, he doesn’t need it. I- I don’t know what to do Liam. I just can’t keep on going like this. Maybe he does.
stole my heart
You’re twenty-six and you can’t speak. You try. You try to get a coherent thought out of your mouth, but you can’t. He’s right there. You haven’t seen him for eight months, haven’t touched him for even longer. You have moved on, forgotten about him, truthfully. Months of getting drunk, staying in, five steps of grief. You moved forward. One look. That’s all it took for the memories to flood back. You can still escape, he hasn’t seen you. It’s all coming back though. You’re sweating, warm all over, cold. You want to know everything. For the first time in your life you don’t know what’s going on in his. You’re a stranger. Just another person. You move like your legs have their own free will, he’s leaving, he’s slipping away. Louis. He turns around and you see the emotions on his face flicker with the speed of light. Politeness, recognition, curiosity, confusion, glee, apprehension. You swallow. You have a speech, but the words are trapped in your mouth. You can feel people staring at you, judge you. No. You won’t let them dictate you anymore. He can see your fear, he can see the way you resolutely don’t look around. He sighs. And suddenly you need him to know you’re not like that anymore, you don’t care about them. You care about him. I love you. It’s not difficult. You’ve said them before. Never with an audience though. He makes himself ready to leave and you grab his wrist without thinking. No! It’s guttural and wrenched, broken and scared, fierce and commanding. No. Just that one look, just the one look of his face and you knew. You knew he was worth it, that you could fix this. You fell for him all over again. The hold he has on you is scary. Even after all this time. What, Zayn? He’s mocking and patronizing. Fuck. You hate it when he turns like this. It’s a defence mechanism, still. You bend forward and you think you’re going to be sick. People are watching and tears are prickling behind your eyelids. You’re about to retreat when you see the small glint of hope glimmer in his eyes. You can’t. Your lips meet his and he is the one bombarded. Just like I was all those years ago. It’s no tongue, no passion, you’re too scared, too nervous. It’s just a peck and it lasts for approximately five seconds. You know people are looking. You know they any moment will judge you or say filthy things or preach or turn around, disgusted. Nothing happens, instead Louis takes your hand and tugs you outside. You lay down on the grass, the party just a small buzzing in the background. You’ve wanted this your entire life, waited for him for what feels like an eternity. I want to be here. Here with you. The sentence hold so much more meaning than you let on. You don’t want to leave. Ever. Your heart is pumping and you wonder if this will be it. A snog, a night together, and nothing. You’re lying on your backs, shoulder to shoulder, watching the stars on the black sky. He takes your hand. It’s cold. He intertwines them, your fingers around his knuckles and a flood of relief washes over you. You didn’t know you were so tense before your entire body unclenched. You’ve always had my heart, Zayn. You didn’t leave me much of a choice when it came to that. He says it like it doesn’t really matter, like he’s making small talk about the weather, his gaze still on the night sky. You squeeze his hand and his knuckles turn white of the pressure. Okay, then. Good to know.
Pairing: Louis/Zayn
Word Count: 4 700 ish
Warnings: some homophobia, 2. person narrative
Disclaimer: This is my own fiction and I don't own the songs or the boys
Summary: We see Louis' and Zayn's relationship evolve through the years
A/N: This is a song!fic that includes all the songs from Up All Night. Title is from Torn because that seemed the most appropriate even though it's ~sligthly misleading. Comments are always lovely!
what makes you beautiful
You’re five and he’s lying next to you, sniffling. Your hands are linked and you remember what you told him. Always. His dad left them and he’s sad because his mum cries a lot. He doesn’t want to leave her, ever. You tell him he has to, you both have to go to school soon! He shakes his head. No. It makes you sad. He’d rather be with his mum than you. You’re not as important. You pout and say you don’t need him. His eyes turn big and sorry and he grips you hard. I love you too. I love you both. You nod, because you love your mum, and your baby sister. You just don’t love her as much as Louis though. She’s a girl. And a baby at that. You’re special, you whisper almost as if it’s a secret. Not knowing that later it would be. Maybe if you knew you would have screamed it. You love everyone, you say and he nods gravely. His hand lays securely in yours and there’re still dried tears on his cheek. That’s why I love you, you think. You kiss his forehead, just like mum does to you and he smiles and wipes his snot on his sleeve. And you can’t help but smile too, because he’s your bestest friend in the whole wide world. His eyes are shining and it suddenly hits you. You’re beautiful you whisper and pet him on the head.
gotta be you
You’re eight and you’ve run behind the shed at school. You’ll never forgive him. He’s stupid and you hate him. Hate him. He calls you name. He sounds small and nervous. Zayn! Zayn, I know you’re there. You don’t answer him, but he’s your best friend so he finds you anyway. Why are you mad? You can’t answer, you don’t know. So you do what you always do when something confuses you. You act out and you push him, hard. His eyes fill with tears when he falls startled to the ground, but you don’t feel bad. He deserves it, you hate him.
Go back to Beth, you say and you can’t help but pout. He stands up with a swift move. You’re a jerk. He’s staring angry at you and you repeat your request. Do you want her for yourself? You don’t. He moves closer to you and you try to back away from him, uncertain. Your back hits the wall of the shed with a thump and he’s standing in front of you, too close, he never did have personal boundaries. His mouth is inches from yours and you look at him wide eyed. I saw you kiss Lisa. He says it like it’s a betrayal and you want to apologise, but he kissed Beth too. And why shouldn’t you kiss Lisa? It’s not fair. I thought about you though, you whisper and he suddenly smiles wide and bright and takes your hand, drags you out to the playground again. That’s what I thought.
one thing
You’re twelve and you’re lying in the tent in your backyard. You said it was stupid and you complained to your mothers, but now you’re happy. It’s pretty awesome, your own tent. You’re together and it’s all dark except the flash light that illuminates your features. Your hands are not intertwined. They had talked about being gay in school today and Louis hadn’t stopped staring at you. Maybe I am. You know what he’s talking about, but you place your hand over his mouth, won’t let the words escape him so the world can hear. No. He’s scared and you want to comfort him, but he needs to understand.
There’s nothing wrong with it.
‘Course not. You don’t look at him, you won’t tell him that it is. But someone has to and you’re the only one that can. Before you can open your mouth though, you feel soft lips over your own and you open your eyes in shock, stares at him. He’s right above you, his eyes bores themselves into yours, his lips are still, but placed firmly over your mouth. You can’t move, your entire body is stiff. Your heart is pounding and it’s ready to burst out of your chest. Finally he moves away from you, you’ve just laid there the entire time, it feels like hours. I don’t think it’s because you’re a boy. You don’t answer. It’s just something about you, you know? You do.
more than this
You’re fourteen and you wonder if he just likes to screw you over. She’s pretty and funny and she has brown hair and freckles. Her name is Beth and you wonder what happened to it’s gotta be you. You remember her. You remember when he kissed her for the first time. Now he always kisses her and you don’t know what to do. You kiss her friends though, all of them. Didn’t know you were such a player, Zayn. You ignore him. You don’t say you hate him like before, but you do. You hate her more. Because when he dances it’s not with you and when he walks the streets it’s not with you and when he locks the door it’s not with you inside. He doesn’t kiss you anymore, he doesn’t seem happy either. He holds her hand, she laughs at his jokes and you look at the two of them together. I think I’m gay, Zayn. Liar. He’s watching you and you’re afraid you’re going to lose him. I can love you so much more. His eyes are unbelievably sad and you wonder when that happened. So why won’t you?
up all night
You’re fifteen and the music is blasting, there are people everywhere. You’ve just fucked Geneva up the wall. It was hard and rough and you should feel sorry, because it didn’t matter. You can’t walk straight, your feet tripping over each other and you feel the alcohol in your veins. It’s all dizzy and fluorescent lights, too many colours.
You find him in the crowd, in his ace. Laughing and gesticulating wildly, drinking from the red plastic cup. Wanna go upstairs? It’s a hidden meaning, a challenge. Sure, Zayn. You fuck him slowly. It hurts for him and you think he deserves it. Think how much it hurt when you fucked Beth the first time? His eyes widen, but he doesn’t answer. You’ve ruined it for him, it was supposed to be special. He tries to breathe, you’re still going slow, but you go all the way, as deep as you can. There are tears streaking down his cheeks and he tries to grasp your hand. Please- Please don’t be angry with me when we do this. You laugh, it’s broken and hollow. You briefly wonder when you turned into this. You go harder and he clenches around you, a scream releases itself from his lips. You don’t know if it’s from pleasure or pain, you decide you don’t want to. I’ll always be angry with you. You made me like this. This is your fault. You’re not slow anymore, you are quick and precise, and you come deep inside of him. You stay there and watch as he gets himself off. You stay inside until you soften, and he smiles, like it’s a victory. This is right. You finally move out of him and leave the bed, painfully aware of how it must have looked if anyone came in. After you’ve dressed you turn towards him, he’s lying naked, sprawled and you’ve never seen anyone more beautiful.
No. It’s not. You pretend you don’t hear his sobs as you leave. You keep drinking and finger another girl in the bathroom. You get a text at four am. You having fun, staying up? You don’t answer, you just cry.
I wish
You’re seventeen and the only good thing that’s happening is that Beth’s out of the picture. It doesn’t help though, because in it is Hannah. Blonde and beautiful and no one can fail but notice how completely different she is from you. It’s the school dance and you can’t breathe. You’re suffocating. Why does it hurt so much seeing them together? Your hand is trembling and Rebecca smiles and hands you another punch. I’m fine. She knows you’re not. He doesn’t notice you anymore, it’s like he’s given up. Every time you’re together you want to tell him to forget the last few years. It’s him you love, you never say it though. They’re dancing, it’s slow and he can’t see your face. But he must feel your burning gaze in his back. The slow dancing reminds you of when you fucked. That’s what it was. Nothing more, nothing less. It was pretty perfect to be so fucking bad. You haven’t even noticed you’ve walked up to them. You turn a shade redder as you realise and they stop their movements. For the first time in months he’s looking straight at you and you want to tell him so badly. Yeah, it was. You kiss him later that night and his lips are soft and his smile is so, so bright. It feels right and that scares you. I’ve wanted to do that every day the last couple of months. Every time I saw you together. He links your hands and you realise that’s what you’ve missed the most. That’s innocent, that’s okay. I know Zayn. I know.
tell me a lie
You’re nineteen and you can’t believe this is it. Everything you’ve been through together, all those years, girls, fights, parties, everything. You love him. You remember when you were five and you found him beautiful because he loved so much, so many, fully. You don’t anymore, it’s his worst quality. Two years. You tell him. And this is hard for him and you don’t help. You’ve always known he would leave you. He has always wanted to come out, tell your friends, your family, everyone. You’ve refused, this is not something people should know. I’m sorry. You’ve gotten drunk, fucked other girls before going back and apologising to him. After a night together making love you broke the mirror and he had to drive you to the emergency. You were trembling as the doctor removed the broken glass from your hand.
What happened here? Fuck. I fell for a homophobic arse, is what happened here. You wince and don’t even get mad at the fact that he has spilled your most sacred secret. You look for judgement in the doctor’s eyes the rest of the time you’re there, you don’t find any. You cry at night and you yell at him, tell him what an abomination he is. You make him go on dates and he begs you to let go. Let go of the hate you carry. You can’t.
You’ve always known he would leave, but you never thought it was because he would find another person. A person he loves more than you. It fucking hurts you tell him. Why? He looks so tired and you’re only teenagers. You didn’t think it was possible to hurt so much. You want the truth? You shake your head. No. You love him, you have since you were eight and found him kissing Beth George in the school ground. And whatever happened since, you’ve always known he has loved you too. That’s what made the both of you stay. Not if it is that you’re over me. You look at each other and he nods silently. Okay…I’ll lie.
taken
You’re twenty-one and he’s seducing you. You know he is. You also know you will resent him if you fall for it, more importantly he knows it, he doesn’t stop though. He just wants you to break up. He doesn’t care what happen after that. You don’t understand. He left you. He walked out on you, not the other way around. He has no right. You’ve met another girl. You haven’t grown tired of her, you haven’t screwed things up, if anything you’ve done it all right, you’re happy. For the first time in your life you think gloomily, before you shake your head. That’s not true. Maybe it scares him. Maybe it scares him to see the relief on your face every time you’re with her, to not see any worry. You’re so beautiful, Zayn. It’s like he can’t have you together. Like he can’t see the person he loves with someone that isn’t him. Doesn’t he realise you’re going through the exact same thing? That you feel just the same watching them? She’ll never have to know, babe. It’s not like you haven’t done the same to him before. It’s a reason he knows how to play this game. He’s accusing you, like he can see the thoughts that are flying inside of your head. He finally understood the pattern, at last. Bravo. Beth, Hannah, now Eleanor. And what, this is your revenge? You don’t want him, it’s wrong, that’s why you let go. That’s why you accepted that he left, because maybe, just maybe it was for the best. Now he won’t let you be happy. His eyes are predatory, like he won’t let her have you. Like he’ll do anything to keep you here. Like you’re his. This wasn’t a part of his plan when he left, you realise. You weren’t meant to move on. You’ve thought about it too Zayn. I’ve seen you watching me, watching the boys and girls I bring to the flat. Watching me with El. You beg him, you beg him not to ruin this. He’s too good, he won’t be able to live with the guilt of what he has done to her. Is he really willing to throw that relationship on the boat, just for a night with you? Just so your relationship will shatter? You really like her and it makes you sick that you’re even considering this. But, no. You won’t be weak. You’re not going to let him make you want this, make him tell you it’s okay, that it’s normal. God, I love you Zayn. You’re shaking, but you’re moving closer, gravitating towards him. He always knows what to say, how to make your defences crumble. I’m happy. It’s not a lie, you are. You’re happy because you don’t look at yourself in the mirror anymore and feel disgusted at what you see. You’re not feeling paranoid every time someone’s eyes linger at you a few seconds longer than normal. He nods, like that’s the worst part. And maybe it is. If you just were a bit better at hiding it, if you hadn’t shoved it his face every chance you got, if you hadn’t pushed him to his breaking point you wouldn’t have been here, struggling against him. Failing. You’re like a mot and he’s the flame. Just one last time, baby. The alcohol is clogging your brain and you should have known better than to drink alone with him. I can’t lose you. You feel a pang of guilt, because all he want is to be loved, one way or another. It still doesn’t justify what he’s doing to you now. I’m thinking of you every day, did you know that? Of course you know that. You think about him too, but he’s breaking the rules. You’re not supposed to tell each other. Do you think about me, Zayn? You whimper, he’s so close and you can smell his cologne and beneath it, him. His smell, the smell that’s always made you feel safe. No, Lou. He’s cocking his head and bites his lip. No, you’re not thinking about me? He’s taunting you, but behind the facade you can see a small look of fear. Fear that maybe you’re over him. He refuses to give up though, he’s licking at your ear and you shiver. Your body betrays you and you tilt your head back towards him, just an inch. It’s enough, because he turns you around with a sudden force. Your hands are around his neck before either of you can blink and you’re biting his lip, your mouths colliding. It’s all tongue and teeth and God, you’ve missed this. How could you ever have stopped? It’s desperate and messy and over far too soon. You’re both lying in the bed and you can already feel the shame wash over you. What the fuck is wrong with you? How can you like this? Is God testing you, does he want you to fail? Now you’ve got it out of your system, are you going to ignore me again? There’s no hate or resentment in his voice, he just sounds sad and fragile. It seems you just want me when there’s someone else, anyway. Can’t blame me for doing the same. You take his hand even though it physically hurts to touch him and tangle them together, comfort him. You hear what he’s saying, but you still do. You still blame him.
I want
You’re still twenty-one and you’re fighting. You haven’t fought like this in years. He’s screaming fucking fag at you and you see red because he knows. He knows how much that hurts. It doesn’t matter that you’ve called him it before, he does it -not because he means it- but because he wants you to hurt.
I just want you to love me, is that so bad? You do love him, you love him more than anyone in the entire world. You tell him and he throws his arms in the air, his voice high-pitched. Yeah, but not enough to tell the world, right? You count to three silently. You’ve been through this, so many times. I want to be able to hold your hand in the public, Zayn. You hate it when he turns like this. I want to tell people I’m with you when they ask if I’m single. It gives you a bad conscience. I want to kiss you when we’re at clubs. It makes you feel like you’re not enough. I want to tell mum I have a boyfriend, that I’m happy. It makes you want to hit something, because you didn’t ask for this. You didn’t ask for him to fall for you, to make you fall for him. I want the world to know you’re not this womanizer you pretend to be. He’s crying now and it reminds you of all those times you’ve seen him cry. Sometimes it seems you’re the only reason he does. What exactly is it you want, Louis? What do you want me to do? He’s kissing you, hard and possessive. Saliva are hanging between your lips like threads when he speaks next. I want you to love me more than you hate yourself, more than you care about the society’s opinions. He’s breathing in your mouth, his eyelashes brushes your cheek bone. You don’t know if you can.
everything about you
You’re twenty-two and the world is at your feet. You got the job and he says you have to celebrate. You kiss him fiercely and thank him. He always believed in you. Always said you would make it. You hit the clubs. Don’t fuck any random girls, okay? You want to kiss the grin straight off his face, but you’re standing in the middle of the line so you settle with a smirk. Don’t exclaim your love for dicks. He laughs out loud and people turn around. It flutters in your stomach, like butterflies are flying in 100 km per hour. His eyes crinkle and he punches you lightly in the arm, a small, secret smile in the corner of his mouth, your smile. Ten years you’ve loved him, but now as you look at him, drinking, laughing and eying the people walking by it feels like two months. He still surprises you and it brings you back to when you were twelve and kissed for the first time. There was something with you he couldn’t define, that one thing. There are a hundred things that make you love him, that’s always made you love him. It’s the way he drinks his tea in the morning, sipping at it, it’s the way he disappears every time the flat needs vacuuming, it’s the way he kisses your neck when he wakes up and the way he says the rudest jokes with a muttered voice in the most unfitting situations. It’s everything you say and he smiles a crooked smile like he has any idea of what you’re talking about. Is it now?
same mistakes
You’re twenty-four and you’re absolutely certain you’ve been here before. More than once. This isn’t a game, you know? It’s our lives. Something’s different though. He wants this to work so badly, his eyes are pleading. He doesn’t know how long he can continue this. We know the problem, babe. Knowing doesn’t make it any easier. In fact, it makes it worse. Fighting, fucking, breaking up, pining, destroying, making up, making love, hiding, fighting, fucking. You always come back though. It’s dark outside, in the middle of the winter, cold. We’re not going forward. He doesn’t blame you, he doesn’t have to. You do it enough for you both. I’m waiting, Zayn. I’ve waited for so long. He left you once, he promised he’d never do it again. He might have lied. I can’t decide this right now. He doesn’t scream, he doesn’t cry, he doesn’t hit. It’s unsettling. You can’t sleep through your life. This won’t go away. You hit the wall with such force it leaves a mark. He doesn’t even flinch. We’re fine. He goes to the kitchen and makes dinner and you sit down and eat. It’s uncomfortable and there’s too much tension. How long are you going to keep saying that? He left you when you were fourteen because you didn’t dare to take him to the movies and dinner. He left you when you were seventeen because you refused to be his date to the prom. He left you when you were nineteen because you neglected him and he found someone who didn’t. He left you when you were twenty-one because you didn’t allow him to tell the world who he was. It’s history. You see the pattern, it doesn’t make any difference. You wonder how many times he will leave, there’s still so much left of life. It hits you then, he’s warning you. We’re not going forward. He’s telling you he won’t keep leaving and coming back, it won’t continue like this. Are you going to stop letting us repeat the same mistakes over and over?
save you tonight
You’re twenty-five and he’s feeding him lies. How can a man like that be so cynical, how can Louis not see it? You hear them talk at night, hushed voices in the dark, 3 am. You deserve so much more, Lou. Who the fuck does he think he is? He doesn’t need saving from you. He doesn’t need him to scoop him up and make life easier. We can leave Louis, just the two of us. He has met you twice, still he thinks he knows you, knows your demons. I mean, how much can he care? He sees that you’re hurting. Many have loved him, boys, girls... he’s easy to love. You don’t blame him for loving him too. You understand. This is not a good relationship. Next time you see him he will be all smiles and laughter and have no idea that you know what he’s plotting. That you know he’s trying to take him away from you. I would do anything you ever asked of me. He’s so good: responsible, goofy, handsome, kind. It’s easy to fall in love with him too. I’m right here, I wish you would see me. He’s not unhappy, this is not a bad relationship. You just don’t give him what he needs, he can. I would always try my best, Lou. I’d always try. Does he? He’s twisting it, he’s making him doubt you, hell he’s even making you doubt you. Hey, hey don’t cry Lou. You know he’s giving. He’s giving and you’re taking and he’s making you both aware of it. It’s just, you’ve lost so much of your light, you know? You’re fading. The thing is, you’re not sure if it’s possible to leave him. He has always come back to you, but he can give him the world, that must be hard to walk away from. I just want you to be happy, to take you away from what’s making you not. He doesn’t need any saving, he doesn’t need it. I- I don’t know what to do Liam. I just can’t keep on going like this. Maybe he does.
stole my heart
You’re twenty-six and you can’t speak. You try. You try to get a coherent thought out of your mouth, but you can’t. He’s right there. You haven’t seen him for eight months, haven’t touched him for even longer. You have moved on, forgotten about him, truthfully. Months of getting drunk, staying in, five steps of grief. You moved forward. One look. That’s all it took for the memories to flood back. You can still escape, he hasn’t seen you. It’s all coming back though. You’re sweating, warm all over, cold. You want to know everything. For the first time in your life you don’t know what’s going on in his. You’re a stranger. Just another person. You move like your legs have their own free will, he’s leaving, he’s slipping away. Louis. He turns around and you see the emotions on his face flicker with the speed of light. Politeness, recognition, curiosity, confusion, glee, apprehension. You swallow. You have a speech, but the words are trapped in your mouth. You can feel people staring at you, judge you. No. You won’t let them dictate you anymore. He can see your fear, he can see the way you resolutely don’t look around. He sighs. And suddenly you need him to know you’re not like that anymore, you don’t care about them. You care about him. I love you. It’s not difficult. You’ve said them before. Never with an audience though. He makes himself ready to leave and you grab his wrist without thinking. No! It’s guttural and wrenched, broken and scared, fierce and commanding. No. Just that one look, just the one look of his face and you knew. You knew he was worth it, that you could fix this. You fell for him all over again. The hold he has on you is scary. Even after all this time. What, Zayn? He’s mocking and patronizing. Fuck. You hate it when he turns like this. It’s a defence mechanism, still. You bend forward and you think you’re going to be sick. People are watching and tears are prickling behind your eyelids. You’re about to retreat when you see the small glint of hope glimmer in his eyes. You can’t. Your lips meet his and he is the one bombarded. Just like I was all those years ago. It’s no tongue, no passion, you’re too scared, too nervous. It’s just a peck and it lasts for approximately five seconds. You know people are looking. You know they any moment will judge you or say filthy things or preach or turn around, disgusted. Nothing happens, instead Louis takes your hand and tugs you outside. You lay down on the grass, the party just a small buzzing in the background. You’ve wanted this your entire life, waited for him for what feels like an eternity. I want to be here. Here with you. The sentence hold so much more meaning than you let on. You don’t want to leave. Ever. Your heart is pumping and you wonder if this will be it. A snog, a night together, and nothing. You’re lying on your backs, shoulder to shoulder, watching the stars on the black sky. He takes your hand. It’s cold. He intertwines them, your fingers around his knuckles and a flood of relief washes over you. You didn’t know you were so tense before your entire body unclenched. You’ve always had my heart, Zayn. You didn’t leave me much of a choice when it came to that. He says it like it doesn’t really matter, like he’s making small talk about the weather, his gaze still on the night sky. You squeeze his hand and his knuckles turn white of the pressure. Okay, then. Good to know.