Zayn: He didn't mean to snoop through your things, honest. He was just looking for a T-shirt to wear, since the one he'd been wearing got kind of ripped in...activities last night. But in your drawer, he found the tiny blue book. And he saw a broken heart etched on the front in black, and he wanted to know what was inside. He wanted to know why it was a broken heart. You were in the kitchen making breakfast, so he had to be quick. He picked up the book carefully, not wanting to invade your privacy, but wanting to make sure you were okay. At least, that's what he told himself. He flipped through the pages slowly, but all he saw were numbers. Numbers and dates. And broken hearts. "july 20, 250," broken heart. "july 21, 50," "july 22 560" three broken hearts. He wondered what they all meant, but when he got to the last page, it clicked. "stop eating so many calories! 0" today's date. Broken heart. Calories. Weight. He let the book fall from his hand, shaking. How could he not notice. You were his GIRLFRIEND for God's sake! He was so, so angry at himself. He couldn't control it. He swung out his fist and punched the wall, making a small indent. "Zayn! Christ! I heard a bang, are you okay?" you run into the room quickly, face filled with concern. "Am I ok? The question is are you okay? God, I'm so, so sorry," he whispers, shaking his head. "Zayn? What are you taking about?" you ask, voice quivering. He walks over to you, his hazel eyes edged with tears. He places a gentle hand on your waist. "How could I have not noticed, I'm awful," he breathes. You notice the open drawer and you know he must've found it. Your book. "Zayn, I'm fine, that book is just..." you try to explain feebly. "Just nothing, (Y/N). That's so...bad...I don't want to lose you, please let me help you," he says quietly, placing his hands on either side of your face. Tears slide down your cheek and he brushes them away. You give him a nod, deciding you'll go to rehab or therapy or whatever it takes. You can't handle him blaming himself, and you can't stop on your own. "You're good enough," he says softly. "You are perfect."
Niall: Niall couldn't help it. You'd been so quiet lately. Whenever he asked what was wrong, you'd lie. You'd say you were fine, but he saw right through it. He was worried, so worried. He asked your best friend if she knew, but she had no idea anything was even wrong. He knew that you weren't okay, and you wouldn't talk. So when you were both outside by the pool, he said he'd be right back, he was going inside to get a snack. He wasn't. Feeling guilty, but powered by concern, he snuck into your room. He checked under your pillow, your nightstand--looking for what? A diary? Maybe. He stuck his hand under the bed, letting out a silent gasp when he felt something. A notebook? He pulls out the composition notebook, one like the ones kids use in school and turns it over in his hands. He shouldn't open it, but if you won't open up to him...Swallowing thickly, he opens the book. He was expecting, well, he didn't know what he was expecting, but he knows it wasn't this. His eyes flicker across the words, his hands are shaking. Today's date. "Dear Journal, it's been one year since I tried to do it. Commit. I'm glad I didn't, but it's still hard to remember. Who would've known one moment saved my life? x Love, (Y/N)' He can't believe it. You always seemed to happy and...but one year ago. One year ago. Shit. One year ago was the day he met you. He saved your life. He can't help but let a tear slip down his cheek as he shoves the book back beneath your bed frame. He runs down the stairs and gathers you into his arms. You're so confused, but he's crying and smiling and mumbling how he's so happy to have you and how he loves you so much, so you just lean into his hug and brush away a lone tear. "What's going on, babe?" you whisper quietly. "I saw..I'm so sorry...I was worried...but I can't believe..." he manages to get out, stroking your hair. "Niall, what are you talking about?" you breathe, even though you're pretty sure what he's talking about. "Please don't ever...try to commit again, please. I don't know what I'd do if I," he says softly, kissing your cheek. "If I lost you." You want to be mad at him for going through your personal things--your journal for God's sakes! But you can't bring yourself to do it. Because truthfully, he deserves to know. He is the one who saved your life, after all.
Liam: "Can you help me look for it? I can't find it and I really need to wear my black dress to work today," you sigh, digging through a pile of dirty clothes on the floor. "Of course I'll help," Liam replies, thumbing through hangers in your closet. You both dig through nearly everything you own, looking for the stupid black dress with the criss-cross back, when Liam finds something odd in one of your drawers. A notebook? "Babe, what's this?" he asks innocently, holding it up. You turn around and freeze, shaking your head. "It's my diary," you mumble, your cheeks turning red. "Oh," he replies simply, turning it over in his hands. You don't tell him not to read it, though. In fact, maybe you're glad that by some random turn of events, by some chance he'd found it. He goes to put the book back in the drawer where he'd found it, being respectful of your privacy, but you stop him. "Liam, you can read it if you want," you say softly, taking a step closer to him. "No, it's okay. I don't want to invade your privacy," he shrugs. "No, I want you to read it," you say quickly, before you can take back your words. He looks at you with confusion, but places the book back in his hands. "Why? What's in it?" he inquires, running his hand over the cover. "Liam, I need you to know something and it's really...embarrassing and I hope you don't think I'm a complete freak or loser or crazy, but..." you trail off and push the book towards him, urging him to read. "Babe, nothing could make me think you're a freak or a loser or crazy..." he replies, opening the book. His eyes scan the first page. The second. The third. Next page, next page. His face doesn't show much of a reaction, he's not that easy to read. You hope he doesn't find it completely bonkers that this notebook isn't much of diary...it's more of a collection of writings. It's actually more of a book filled with dreams and things, kind of like a bunch of imagines or scenarios or one shots, with you and him as main characters. "(Y/N), these are really good. I didn't know you wrote," he says after a few moments. "Why did you think I'd think you were a freak? Or crazy?" He pulls you into a hug and smiles, shaking his head. "Liam, but, I wrote all these made up things about us, that's a bit 'out there' and crazy," you tell him, raising an eyebrow. "It's not, I think it's sweet," he says honestly. "Maybe we can make some of them come true."
Qotd: If I made a book where y'all got to write questions for me in the comments to answer, would y'all like for me to do it?
A: THE Q&A BOOK WAS MADE
HE FINDS OUT ONE OF YOUR SECRETS BY READING YOUR DIARY
Start from the beginning
