Talk To Me [Zarry]

TWELVE

Finally a new chapter! This took me a long time to write so please, please let me know your thoughts! 

Two months later

Breathe, breathe, breathe. 

Zayn closed his eyes, focusing on the movement of air in and out of his body. When he opened his eyes again, a pair of green, loving and comforting eyes were staring back at him. He grinned. Harry put a thumbs up and Zayn nodded. 

"I'm good, I'm good, don't worry about me."He said with a smile and Harry put a gentle hand on his shoulder, squeezing it slightly as they walked towards their class. Sanders sent Zayn a discreet grin once he noticed them enter the lecture hall, to which Zayn responded with a playful wink. He was fine. 

Except he wasn't. 

It had been a couple of months since his assault, and although he had put on a brave face, he was still struggling to come to terms with what had happened to him. At school, he tried his best to pretend that everything was fine, but deep down, he was still deeply traumatized. He could still recall the moment of discomfort feeling the bastard's hands on his body, the pit of dread that had formed in his stomach when he realised what was happening. He felt disgusted with himself, for how helpless and weak he was and he blamed himself, deducing that he must have done something to give that man the idea that he could approach him like that. Most of all he felt lonely, like the world was moving without him. None of his friends knew what had happened and he was too afraid to tell them, his parents had enough on their plates and so he didn't want to burden them. Not to mention he didn't want his sisters to know, he was supposed to be the big, strong and protective older brother. Not the one who needed to be protected. 

He kept himself busy with random things; boxing, weed and tattoos. He no longer had any room on his skin and he had begun to draw over old designs, he had dyed his hair multiple times as well, to the point that he had to shave it all off for a new set of healthy hair to grow. He was spiralling, he knew that, but he didn't want to deal with it and so he didn't. Choosing instead to pretend he was fine. He was fine. 

He felt a tap on his shoulder and he turned to see Harry staring at him with worry, Zayn forced a smile on his face as he nodded reassuringly. Harry was the only one who knew aside from Sanders, the only one who he could talk to. Except, he couldn't. Harry hadn't said another word since that day and Zayn was starting to wonder if he had imagined it all as a trauma response. He couldn't ask him about, he felt it was wrong and immoral, especially now that he knew exactly why Harry couldn't speak. Still, he found himself yearning to hear Harry say his name, just once, he felt that that was what he needed to feel alright again. He remembered the way his fear and worries had disappeared once Harry had grabbed him and said his name, that was what had saved him that day. 

Sleep was a distant memory, something he couldn't do anymore. He had found himself always tossing and turning, plagued by angst and irrational thoughts of self blame. Weed helped but drugs could only do so much. He stared up at his dark ceiling, once again unable to sleep, wondering for how much longer he could keep up this charade. A tear slipped down his face as he turned to his side. He was tired, tired of tears, tired of fighting, tired of pretending and tired of not being ok. The world was done with him and he needed to be cut loose. He sat up with a sob, scared of the thoughts that were piling up in his head. 

Without thinking Zayn reached for his phone and called Harry. He knew it was futile, he knew Harry wouldn't be able to talk back, but he needed him, he needed to hear his voice. The phone rang a few times before he picked up, and there was silence on the other end. "Harry," Zayn whispered with a frail and defeated voice. There was nothing,nothing but the soft crackles and humming of Harry's breathing letting him know that he was listening. 

Zayn took a deep breath and spoke softly into the phone,"Talk to me."

For a moment that felt too long, there was no response, and he feared that Harry had hung up. But then he heard Harry's voice, hoarse, soft and hesitant, but unmistakably there. "Zayn," He said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Tears welled up in Zayn's eyes, and he choked back a sob. It was the first time he had heard his voice since the day of the attack, and it was like a balm to his wounded soul. "Harry," He repeated, his voice wavering with emotion. "I'm so glad you're there. I'm so glad you picked up the phone." He sobbed, "I almo-" He stopped himself, realising it wasn't fair to burden Harry with thoughts as dark as his. 

"You almost what?" Harry questioned gently. Zayn shook his head, swallowing deeply before responding. 

"Nothing, it's nothin-" 

"I need you Zayn." Harry said suddenly, knowing the thoughts that plagued his friend without having to be told. " I need you so much and so do your sisters, your parents, Louis, Niall and even Liam. What happened wasn't your fault you know that right?"Harry sniffled as he spoke and Zayn felt his emotion and sincerity even throught the phone. 

"Y-yeah."

"I need you to not only know that but believe that with all your heart because it's the truth. There are sick fucks in the world but there's nothing we can do about that. They're the messed up ones, we can't let them mess up as well. Your family and friends love you so much, we love you so much. Remember these words the next time your thoughts decide to turn into your enemy." 

"Thank you." Zayn sniffled, not knowing what he would have done if he hadn't taken the courage to call Harry. 

They talked for hours, about everything and nothing. They found themselves reaching a new level of their friendship as they bared it all to each other. Harry told Zayn about his past, about the trauma that had left him unable to speak and how it affected him. He spoke slowly and carefully, but with each word, Zayn felt the weight of Harry's pain lift from his shoulders. For the first time since almost ever Zayn felt truly understood, and it was all thanks to Harry.

As the night wore on, Zayn's eyes grew heavy, and he yawned. "I should go to bed," he said, his voice strained from all the talking.

"Goodnight, Zayn," Harry said, his voice still soft and hesitant, but filled with a warmth that Zayn had never heard before. He didn't think he could ever get used to it.

"Goodnight, Harry," Zayn said, his heart overflowing with gratitude for his friend.

The weeks of insomnia caught up with him as his eyelids dropped and as he succumbed to sleep that night, Zayn knew that he still had a long way to go before he could fully recover from his trauma. But for the first time since it had happened, he felt hopeful. With Harry by his side, he knew that he could get through anything.

Often times, the most powerful form of communication is not through words, but through understanding.

A/N: Wow, chapter was hard to write but I'm proud of it. Please, please give me some feedback and let me know what you think and don't forget to vote!!