Saving Styles

Hearings & Beers

Harry's POV

I checked my watch nervously as I crossed the parking lot, it was 2:30 and I took a deep breath and reminded myself I'd be finished in a couple hours and be done with it for another two years, hopefully longer this time.

I climbed the steps into the main office building of the correctional facility and opened the door before heading over to the reception desk. Images of Griff came flashing through my mind, followed by Yaz, Luka and Rayne, just like they always did every time I set foot in that place. I felt the anger rising before the receptionist looked up at me and greeted me.

"Can I help you?"

"Uh, I'm Harry Styles. I'm here for the 3pm hearing." I said as I did my best to compose myself.

"Okay, just have a seat I'll call them and let them know you're here." She smiled softly.

I was about to take a seat when I felt a hand on my shoulder.

"Can you let them know that Zayn Malik is here as well." Zayn smiled as he leaned past me and spoke to the receptionist, who nodded in response.

I turned to look at him, shocked to see him, as he just looked back at me.

"Don't even say it mate, I don't care." He laughed as he motioned towards the seats.

"I told you guys it was fine." I sighed.

"I know you did. Brian and Niall wanted to come too but Brian's away with Ash and Niall thought you'd be mad at him if he showed. Lucky for you, I really don't give a fuck if you're mad. We were all there, you're not doing this by yourself again." He said defiantly, letting me know there was no way I would get him to leave.

I sighed, knowing Zayn well enough to know that he wasn't going anywhere. We waited in silence for a few minutes, both of us knowing what the other was thinking. Nothing needed to be said. It was both a blessing and a curse to have lived through it with them, on one hand we never had to discuss it because there were just a million unspoken understandings, but on the other hand it meant we knew how each other were feeling whether we wanted them to or not. The receptionist called us and we stood and took a deep breath. Zayn and I hugged before following the receptionist down to the conference room and taking a seat in the provided chairs against the wall. I was immediately worried for Zayn, knowing it was his first time.

There was a panel of four judges, just as there always was, and six chairs set up at the table to the left of us. I'd been to three of these now, and I didn't seem to be any more relaxed even though I knew how it would go. Zayn took a deep breath beside me and I put my hand on his shoulder, suddenly realizing how thankful I was that he was there.

The door to the conference room opened and I heard the familiar sound of shackles as they were led into the room. I felt Zayn tense beside me as we watched the four of them walk toward the table, a sick feeling settling in my stomach as I tried my best not to lunge forward towards them and start swinging. My entire body was clenched and I felt my jaw getting sore as I tried to suppress my rage as it boiled inside of me. I felt my breathing become shaky as I focused everything I had inside me on staying in my seat, closing my eyes and shoving down the anger like I had so many other times.

Zayn was visibly shaken by the sight of them as I watched his breathing increase and he balled his hands into fists as they rested on his knees. I realized it was the first time he'd seen them since the day we got out six years ago. I reached over and put my hand over his and I noticed the judges watching us as they took their seats. We were both shaking with rage by the time they were seated.