Loose » Zarry ✔

Part 11

Zayn is now in Chicago Illinois. He's just finished performing.

"You seem like you enjoyed yourself." His bodyguard tells him as he leads him off to a room to meet a special group of fans with physical disabilities.

"I think I did." Zayn replies with a smile. But it's not sincere. His bodyguard doesn't know he only put on his best face for the fans. He doesn't know that his mind wasn't and still isn't where it should be.

Zayn finishes his post concert duties and after taking pictures with the fans, he's on his way to his second home again. It takes him about ten minutes to arrive at his hotel. He does so safely and luckily with the interruption of only a few fans who are waiting outside for pictures and autographs. As he takes the elevator to the third floor, he's thinking to himself. Tonight his concert was in the United Center. But he can't wait till the day he's playing right over there across the way at Soldier Field. He mentally keeps that in his notes. He knows it's going to happen some day.

The elevator makes a dinging noise when it comes to a halt and he steps off. He takes his key from his pocket and when he reaches his room, he sticks it in the slot. When the light turns green and it clicks, he removes the key, puts it back in his pocket and goes inside. It's dark so he has to turn on the lights. There is no feeling like the one he has when he sees the bed waiting for him.

Just because he can, he walks over to it and falls backwards onto it. He's ready for a shower and he is well aware that he needs it. But it's just as relaxing to lie there doing nothing.

He closes his eyes to enjoy the silence when out of the blue, his phone rings. He's not happy about it so he lets it continuously ring. Finally it stops. But five seconds later, it's ringing again. He groans. He certainly hopes it's not work related. He isn't up for seeing anyone's face right now.

He retrieves the phone from his pocket and holds it up over him so that he can look at the screen. When he sees the name, he quickly sits up and wastes no time answering it.

"Hello?"

"Zayn."

He can tell it's Harry but he appears to be crying. "Are you alright?"

"I thought you wouldn't answer." He's breathing weirdly into the phone.

"No. I answered. What's wrong?"

"He didn't come."

Zayn doesn't understand. "What?"

"He didn't come. He was supposed to come, but he never did."

Zayn pauses. "I'm not understanding you." The breathing in the phone is highly distracting.

He was supposed to come over. But he never showed."

Zayn puts two and two together and then slowly lies back on the bed again. "Oh."

"Talk to me." Harry urges. "Talk to me so I can feel better."

"Okay..." He starts to say something but he can't get over the heavy breathing. This doesn't sound like crying anymore. This sounds like something else. It sounds like something that he used to hear way before he became famous. "Harry, are you..."

"Talk to me." Harry moans and that's it. It tells the story. He knows exactly what's going on on the other end of that phone.

"Wha... what do you want me to say?" He asks and his face turns hot.

"Tell me what you want to do to me the next time you see me."

The next time... Does this mean Harry does want to see him again? "Why should I say that?"