savior ≫ z.m. [completed]

25

A/N: songs i listened to while writing this chapter:

oh calamity- all time low

the reckless and the brave- all time low

free now- sleeping with sirens

feel- sleeping with sirens

my songs know what you did in the dark- fall out boy

sex- the 1975

try hard- 5SOS

demons- imagine dragons

-

I've always tried to imagine the panic and fear that Zayn felt after he found me after trying to commit both times, but I never really understood why he was so... worried.

Now I understood.

It's one of those feelings where you need to experience to know how it feels, otherwise you simply just can't recreate that certain feeling of losing someone you care about.

So instead of going to Harry's house, we're going to a hospital to see Zayn.

(A/N: I know I said that Harry lives in a hotel earlier but I'm changing it so Harry has a house)

Usually, it'd be me in the hospital, and the icy feeling in my chest being felt by Zayn. The car ride to the hospital is silent, tension so thick you could cut it with a knife. We walk inside as quiet as the car ride, my body physically shaking.

"Zayn Malik," Harry mutters to the lady at the front desk. She points towards a door and tells us the room is 17B.

When we arrive at the door, I take a deep breath.

Hoping for the best, but expecting the worst.

I gasp at the sight of Zayn. There are about fifteen different tubes connected to him, his leg wrapped in a cast. Cuts and bruises are everywhere, from his legs to his arms to his neck and face.

I think it's safe to say he's lucky to be alive.

"Oh my god," Danielle says. He doesn't budge and it scares me. Harry walks over and gently shakes him, but Zayn doesn't react. Danielle pokes his arm, but still no reaction from him, and it scares me.

"Zayn?" I whisper. Please, don't let him be in a coma.

Zayn's eyes flicker open at the sound of my voice and Harry exhales with relief. His hand slowly reaches for mine and I hold it while crying tears of relief, joy, worry, and many other emotions I can't define. Zayn's hazel eyes don't leave mine, staring at me with gratitude and content.

"What happened?" Harry asks. Zayn slowly peels his eyes from mine to look at Harry, and I roll my eyes at Harry's annoyed expression when Zayn doesn't answer.

"Obviously, he can't talk," I mutter. It's Harry's turn to roll his eyes at me.

For a split second I think I see Zayn's lips curl into a small smile, and a small flicker of hope fills me.

He may not be physically in the best condition right now, but maybe, everything is going to be ok.

~

Soon the nurse ushers us out and insists Zayn needs to rest, so Harry takes us back to his house to unpack.

"What songs do you want to listen to?" Harry asks us as we get into the car, plugging his iPhone into the car's speakers. I snatch his phone out of his hand and eye Danielle with a smile. She smiles back knowingly.

"The 1975? Good choice," Harry chuckles as I press play. The familiar tune of one of their songs, Sex, comes on.

The entire way to Harry's house Danielle and I discover that Harry had a lot more in common with us than we could have ever guessed. We had the same music taste, the same opinions, and the same favorite food; tacos.

"We're here," he says. I look up from the phone and see we're parked in front of a small, but cozy grey house, in a neighborhood just a little ways outside of the edge of town.

"This is a nice house," Danielle says.

"Thanks," Harry digs the house keys out of his pockets and unlocks the front door. The inside of the house is decent, not exactly luxurious, but comfortable.

"Thank you so much, it really means a lot Harry," Danielle says to Harry as he leads us to our bedrooms down a hallway.

Danielle warmed up to Harry on the car ride, so now I think she trusts him... I think.

"My pleasure, it's nothing, really," Harry says. What a true gentleman. "Well, you two can get unpacked, what do you say we go out to get some food later and maybe see Zayn?"

"That sounds good," I whisper. When Harry says 'Zayn' my heart stops and I remember the tubes and machines from the hospital, the deep cuts and bruises on his skin. He nods and leaves the room. Danielle turns to me and stares with a curious look in her eye.

"Are you ok?" she asks softly.

"Yes,"

I've lied about being ok so much in my life, I guess that it's just my natural instinct. To say yes when everyone asks if I'm ok.

But really, I'm not. There's always something that's fucked up in my life, I always have the worst luck and the only decent moments of my life are memories. I hate myself, I hate myself so much but there's not a damn thing I can do about it. My mom is an alcoholic bitch, my dad is dead, my brother is an asshole, my best friend committed suicide, and the only people in my life that have ever bothered to even show me any respect other than the dead people i loved with everything in me are Harry, Zayn, and my sister. How do I live with all of this bottled up inside of myself? Even I wonder myself.

I guess I've just come to term with the fact that nothing will ever be right in my life.

A/N: i really enjoyed writing the last part because it mostly reflects my feelings :)