deep enclosure - ziam short story

s e v e n

ITS GETTING HARD TO BE SOMEONE, BUT IT ALL WORKS OUT. IT DOESNT MATTER MUCH TO ME.

- STRAWBERRY FIELDS FOREVER, JIM STURGESS + JOE ANDERSON ( beatles cover )

// THIS MOVIE IS NOT oNLY MY FAVORITE MOVIE EVER, BUT WHY I CAME OUT TO MY PARENTS AND ITS THE ONLY GOOD THING IVE EVER GOTTEN OUT OF MY MOM IM SO IN LOVE WITH IT
at this part jude (the main guy with the strawberries) is going crazy in his house cause he's an illegal immigrant and can't get a real job (yes, hence the art on the walls i didn't really intend to copy that oops) so i though it was fitting. //

BUT GUYS IM SEEING HALSEY IN LESS THAN 24 HOURS MY BODY IS PUMPING I WANT TO TELL EVERYONE IM SO SO HAPPY SOMEONE CONGRATULATE ME OR SOME SHIT

start :

"Fuck." Zayn panted, his cigarette burning up toward his hand. "Fuck, Harry"

"Mate, quit your moaning" Harry sat across the room, his rare occasion cigarette in his hands as well.

Zayn continued his moaning. He had called Harry over after Liam had left that morning.

"I'm telling you Haz. The fucker has got me riding in his palm." Zayn sighed, leaning back to lay on the couch.

"Look, you like him. He isn't manipulating you or anything... And don't call the guy a fucker. You don't do that to people you like" Harry was handling this best he could.

"I can't even ask him out on a proper date!" Zayns eyes closed.

"Well, did you expect to be alone all your life? This is an obstacle you have to pass..." Harry sighed.

"Yes I planned to be alone! I didn't expect that guy to come waltzing in, being... Him... It's not like I felt that way with Niall or you-"

"I'm truly flattered, fuckhead."

"Shut up, Haz. I'm screwed." Zayns cig finally hit the end, and he let the ashes drop to his chest.

"Zayn, come with me." Harry whispered, motioning with his hand as he stood.

Walking over to the door, Harry opened it only to walk out. Niall had bought Zayn a new welcome mat not long ago, and he stood upon it, Zayn watching him skeptically.

"Zayn, I said come with me!" Harry called back when Zayn stopped looking at him.

"Stop playing with me, H. You know why I can't."

Harry walked back into the apartment, grabbing at Zayns hand and dragging him toward the door. Zayn pressed his hands on the doorframe at the last second, standing at the door as Harry took a step out.

Zayn raised his eyebrow, because he was almost sure what Harry was trying to do. So Harry nodded, and reached out a hand.

Zayn didn't take it, only stared at it until the world began to turn. Harry was still, Harry's hand was still, he was still. The floor and the walls and the ceiling were shifting and changing places and, yelling at him, maybe? He couldn't tell... Maybe that was Harry, but either way, it was happening, and it was painful.

Especially when he hit the ground.

Harry didn't move to help Zayn, only stood looking at him. Maybe this could be a way to help cure him. Like a test. Facing your fears and realizing they aren't all that bad.

But Zayn, his hands shooting to the sides and his back curling up, began to scream. His voice caught onto itself, sounding rigid and straining, as even it was begging for his safe home.

Harry panicked, some neighbors looking out their doors for the source, and lifted Zayn up by pressing on his shoulders and walking him back into the room.

Zayns eyes had been closed, but when he opened them, realizing where he was , he fell to the ground once again. Curling into a sort of protective position, hands on the bottom of his feet and knees against his forehead, Zayn lay panting and softly crying.

Harry sat next to him, running a hand through Zayns hair for comfort, regretting taking it that far.

So Harry called Niall, and Niall came over with a movie about drugs and a bottle of vodka, helping Zayn onto the couch. With a shot, or seven, and thirty minutes of the movie, Zayn, exhausted from the events, fell asleep on Nialls lap.

"Ni, I just don't get it... He's so fragile..." Harry paused the movie, calling Nialls attention to him. "I know he was like this with the delivery man, but I though maybe if I were there it'd soften the blow?"

"I know, H. It's scary. He's so damn broken, even after so long. We can't post this stuff on him anymore." Niall sighed, running a hand over Zayns forehead.

"Fucking insane."

They continued the movie, a falling asleep together on the couch.

The next day, Niall had left to get Zayn some paints to take his mind off things, Harry was cleaning up last nights mess, and Zayn sat, with a box of charcoal, infront of the door.

Harry hadn't noticed when Zayn began to draw on the door itself. He started it out with a picture of a small boy, but began to add tears and shifting walls around him. Claws coming out of the floor, the ceiling falling apart. A boy not safe outside.

"Zayn..." Harry whispered, final seeing and sitting next to the boy. "I'm so worried about you." He rested his forehead on Zayns shoulder, his hand on the back of his head.

Zayn didn't answer, and eventually, Niall returned with a pizza and paints, which Zayn used to frantically paint the pizza box black.

"You should sell that, man." Niall laughed, trying to make a joke as he shoved pizza down his throat.

Harry gave a pity laugh, but Zayn stayed silent, picking at his piece. Instead of at least trying to eat, Zayn proceeded with his dripping black paintbrush and covered his slice in the dark shade.

Zayn closed his eyes, his heart wrenching through his chest when Kole curled up at his feet, and closed his own eyes when the paint dripping off Zayns fingers landed on his fur.

Harry and Niall watched, slightly horrified at the view.

"Zayn?" Niall asked, his voice shaky. "What on earth are you doing?"

"Niall, I'm being fucking insane. That's what you wanted, isn't it Harry?"