Luke Hemmings Imagines & Crap (ON HOLD)

just one person

Word Count: 725
copyright © bestyrshemmo
trigger warning: death, self harm

just one person

Suicidal; that's how people would describe me in school. And even now that I'm famous and traveling the world, people still describe me that same cruel way. They would call me that so much, that it became who I am.

Even in the band and with the fans, I still think about what they said. Useless, worthless, a nobody, fat, and many more.

I'm so glad I have my bracelets, because if I didn't, my fans would know my worst secret. They would see my new and old scars. I can't have that. I'm supposed to be their role model and cutting isn't a good influence.

Sometimes I wish they knew, wish they knew why I wear so many bracelets, why I'm so insecure, why I wear long sleeves in the middle of summer, why I was so reserved that time I forgot my bracelets on stage.

But then I think about her and how she made me smile. How she made me forget all those negative thoughts, forget what all those people said, forget everything that was around us and made me focus on her, only her. It broke my heart when she started crying out of nowhere.

"What's wrong?" I asked her with a hand on her shoulder.

"Luke, why? You know we love you. I love you. I'm in love with you. That's why I'm crying so much," she sobs, I start to cry myself.

"You don't understand. no one ever does." I wipe my nose with my sleeve.

"I do understand," she says.

"No, you don't." I insist.

She pulls up her sleeve, "Yes I do, Luke." I gasp. She had scars all the way up to her inner elbow, new and old. I cry harder seeing her like this.

"A beautiful girl like you shouldn't go through such pain," I tell her.

"And a wonderful boy like you shouldn't go through such pain," she looks me in the eye. Her bright Y/E/C eyes burning into my soul.

"I don't have anyone to talk to about it, once my friends found out they left me. I'm all alone," she says, another tear falling down her cheek.

"You're not alone," I say caressing her cheek, wiping away the tear with the pad of my thumb.

"How?" She hiccups.

"You have me," I smile.

"Then you have me," she wraps her frail arms around my waist, burring her head in my shoulder and taking in my scent. I do the exact same.

We exchanged numbers after that. We hung out everyday for the next year, she made me happy. I didn't lay a hand on my blade since the day I met her, she didn't touch hers either. I started to fall in love, I loved her. I was very content on telling her. I decided to tell her the next day. Bad idea.

I woke up that morning all happy and confident. When I stepped into the living room, the boys were sitting there crying. "What's wrong?" I asked.

"Luke," Michael sighs. "We have some bad news."

"It's about Y/N," I freeze in place, suddenly regretting getting up.

"She was on her way here last night to tell you something when a robber ran out of the store she was passing, shooting her in the process. She died on the scene from blood loss. I'm sorry." Ashton says.

"What? No! I never got to tell her that I loved her! I never got to call her mine! She can't be gone! No!" I shouted, tears streaming down my face.

"Luke," Calum says calmly.

"What?" I sob.

"Her last words," he takes a breath, "'I'm in with love Luke.'"

"I love you, too, Y/N. I love you, too." I said to her with my eyes closed. Letting the tears fall.

It's been a year since Y/N's death and I still haven't lied a finger on that blade, in fact, I flushed it down the toilet the day she died. I've gone two years without cutting and I plan on going the rest of my life, it's what she would have wanted. She would have done the same for me, so the least I can do is fulfill her wishes. She was my princess. She may not have known it, but she had and will always have my heart.

end story