Keep This Love (In a Photograph)

Chapter 14

Zayn wakes up fully clothed with a pounding headache, a mouth that tastes like cardboard and his phone ringing. Disorientated, he reaches for the glass of water and Nurofen someone left on his bedside table and downs the entire contents in one. He manages to knock his phone off the table but it still rings on the floor, JT blasting out from when Zayn thought it was a good idea to download Mirrors as his ringtone. In hindsight, and hungover as hell, it was a terrible decision and he absolutely regrets everything.

His tongue is still dry, even after the water, so he climbs out of bed and wriggles out of his clothes, leaving them in a heap on the floor wherever they fall and he staggers to the bathroom to brush his teeth. Then he checks his phone. Fifteen missed calls from Harry and it's two o'clock in the afternoon. Shit.

"Harry?" Zayn says when Harry answers, his voice sounding a bit wrecked. "You alright?"

"Hi Zayn." Harry sounds scarily chirpy. Zayn winces as he falls back into bed and pulls the covers up over his head. "How's the head?"

"Feels like a truck backed up over it," Zayn admits grumpily. "Uh, thanks for getting me home last night."

"Oh no worries," Harry continues in that same chirpy tone. "So, Zayn. Want to tell me why you were being such a dick last night?"

Not really, is Zayn's first, most immediate thought. He has no intention of humiliating himself any further than he's already done. "Dunno what you're talking about," he lies. "Was just doing what we do on nights out. You've probably forgotten now that you're all loved up with fireman Niall."

"Are you being serious?" Harry's dropped all pretence of sounding cheerful. He sounds vaguely outraged. "Are you honestly being serious? You were a complete dick. You barely said two words to anyone last night. And Liam ..."

"Liam what, Harry?" Zayn's already tired of this conversation. He just wants to go back to sleep. Possibly forever. "Liam realised that I'm kind of an asshole? That's not exactly news, mate. Because I am."

"No, you're not actually," Harry says firmly. "Which is why last night was a complete bloody surprise. What were you thinking? Why did you keep flaunting other people in front of-"

"Because I'm fucking alone and I don't want to be," Zayn interrupts in frustration. And the boy I want doesn't want me back, he adds silently.

There's silence on the end of the phone and Zayn shoves his hand through his hair. "Look, I'm sorry I was a dick. I promise I won't be next time, alright? Apologise to your mates and tell them I'm an idiot, yeah?"

"They could be your mates too," Harry says softly. "They want to be. Liam and Louis, they really like you. And Niall wants to be your mate too, and not only because we're fucking and you're important to me, Zayn."

Zayn smiles in spite of himself. "Fuck you, Styles," he says gently. "You're important to me too. And I'll be on my best behaviour next time. I will."

"Okay." Harry sounds appeased and Zayn squeezes his eyes shut in relief. "Do you want me to bring you a McDonalds for your hangover?"

"No, you're alright. I'll speak to you later Harry, yeah?"

"Bye mate."

Zayn really wants to go back to sleep but his body won't cooperate. So one shower, change of clothes and two pieces of toast later, Zayn's out in the garden trying to remember some yoga poses Harry tried to show him once. He gives up after five minutes though and just lies in the grass, staring up at the sky.

He digs his phone out of his pocket while he lays there and brings up Liam's messages. He knows Liam's at work, but he thumbs out a message anyway.