When no one's watching

1 (part one)

*

He knew he's in deep shit the moment he typed the text to be honest.

But pressed send anyway. Now the text has been sent and received. Fuck. He wasn't sure of that.

Harry has always been weak when it comes to Zayn. And this time wasn't any different.

He is been hearing the song Zayn released and shit it brought back all the memories he has been avoiding. It was also not different this time, like always.

Harry was contemplating whether to text Zayn or not since the other night and what he was about to do for a long time and finally decided to not listen to his fucking mind this time and he ended up texted him this morning.

That's why he is jittery from the nerves and the looming fact that Zayn may ignore it or him again. He barely got any sleep last night and now he is losing his mind.

It's been years he thinks somberly to himself, barely able to down his fourth cup of coffee. What would he think of me?

Harry gave a lot of thought to what he should say staring at the blank screen with blinking cursor staring back at him, challenging him. After thinking he's had enough and it was going to be just a simple text, he typed "I'm here" as if he's sure that Zayn is keeping track of him like he does. Oh if he only knew how close to the truth he was to think that.

But now all he could do is wait for something from Zayn; anything, and that's what he's doing for the past three hours. Longest three hours. Waiting just like old times. He curses himself for listening to his heart this time. Fuck.

No shame in what we need...

He took cold shower in a futile effort to calm himself down. Waiting, he slowly starting to regret what he'd done. How can he be so stupid, he doesn't know if Zayn still even has his number or if he'll text Harry back, or if he is allowed to do it, if Zayn want him to talk. And he doesn't want to think about that in particular.

In all his efforts to just will himself to calm down, and to stop pondering over the text and worrying over what will happen, he doesn't bother to check if Zayn has actually read his message or not. He thinks there's no point in checking it if he's not going to have a reply, well he hasn't heard his phone ring right? So he tells himself it doesn't matter. Liar. It matters more than he wants to even realize.

Because it matters and Harry does want Zayn to see his text, now with his mind on a loop, his hands twitch to see if he accidentally put his phone on silent and that Zayn might have replied and he didn't know. His stomach does something weird at the thought. What if he had. The fact that he wants it to be true and yet dreading what is to come, it's fucking with his mind and he wants to throw up.

He was just about to check his phone after waiting for hours which feels like months to Harry at this point. He jumps at the sudden sound from his phone as it pings notifying he got a text. He almost has a heart attack wondering if the text is from who he thinks it's from. Should have had assigned different tone for him he thinks.