Yellow || hs au

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Another three days have passed and I've still yet to hear anything on Harry. I don't even know what I'm waiting for if I'm being honest. Am I waiting for him to call me? Or am I waiting for Zayn to tell me he's doing better and doesn't crave meth anymore? I don't know. Sometimes I think I'm going crazy.

On the bright side, I've managed to get my English grade up to a passing grade. I've been focusing more on school rather than Harry, in the nicest way possible.

I've opened up a bit more to Bryson, avoiding the topic of Harry's addiction and simply telling him how I feel stuck in place all the time and about my parents. I was pretty surprised when he opened up to me too, telling me about the loss of his grandmother and having a bad relationship with his parents that caused him to spiral into a depression.

While our situations are slightly different, it was still nice to be able to talk to someone who seems to understand what it's like to lack a relationship with their parents. It was nice to talk about something that's been bothering me for a while with someone who can understand where I'm coming from.

  "How's the design coming?" Bryson asks, pulling me out of my thoughts. I sigh and glance up at him over my knees.

  "A Greek god is harder to draw than I thought." I reply with a small smile. Bryson rolls his eyes at me as he plops down beside me on the couch, causing me to sit up and cross my legs. "Why are you rolling your eyes?" I question, Bryson shrugging with a playful grin on his lips.

  "You can draw like anything, I've seen your sketchbook. A Greek god is a piece of cake." He answers, retrieving a cigarette from his pack and lighting it.

  "Not exactly." I laugh, closing the cover of my sketchbook and looking over as the door is pushed open. My heart jumps in my chest when Zayn steps inside, his fingers lost in his hair as he lets out a short sigh.

  I sink my teeth into my bottom lip as he walks off to his studio, my legs moving me to follow him before I can even think about it. I step into his studio, watching as he looks through the drawers.

  "Hi." I breathe, catching his attention. He turns to lean his lower back on the counter, his head resting against the cabinets behind him as he sighs.

  "Hey." He replies tiredly. His face is paler than normal and his under eyes are accompanied by dark circles.

  "Is everything okay?" I ask him. Zayn's tired eyes that are bloodshot meet my own, sending shivers down my spine. His tiredness makes me slightly nervous. "Not just with Harry, with you, too." I add on.

  "I'm fine, just sleep deprived. Haz is doing well, he misses the shit out of you, though." He tells me easily, rubbing his eyes with his fingers, letting out a short huff. I chew the inside of my cheek, crossing my arms over my chest.

  "I miss him a lot, too." I sigh, my chest feeling heavy. Words can't even describe how much I miss Harry, all I want is to see him. I just don't want it to be too soon. "Thank you for being with him, he really needed you." I continue, Zayn shaking his head.

  "I'm always going to be there for him, this time was just different." He explains quietly. I furrow my eyebrows at his words, not understanding what was different.

  "Different how?"

  "I've been through this many times with Harry." He states. "He goes through a hard withdrawal and ends up relapsing, usually he just keeps to himself when that happens, but he's been so hard on himself since it happened." He explains, my heart sinking.