Wilted Flowers [Edited]

26. Friends Cushion the Blow

The bed is empty and cold.

Where's Harry? He half-expected the green-eyed man to come into this room, lay down beside him, and stroke his cheek softly while he slept. But he's not here.

His legs dangle off the bed. His ankle buckles as blood rush to the hurt part. He stands up, still shaky. It's going to take more than one Ensure to make him feel healthy again; he knows this. He's not even sure he wants to feel healthy if it means he has to give up that control.

He sees a light shine from the kitchen as he stands up. Zayn is swiveling around in the kitchen chair as he reads a text on his phone. He's sipping coffee and looks like he's waiting patiently on someone probably Liam to greet him.

"Morning," Zayn looks up from his phone.

"Hey," Louis says softly as he sits beside him.

"I'm sorry I was so... demanding last night. Hope you know my anger wasn't directed at you," Zayn pets his hair.

"It's fine," Louis tugs at his sweater.

"It's not fine, Lou. I know you've been going through a hard year with your Mom, with Clay...with yourself...but let go, alright? You have a whole army of support. Let us carry you out of the trenches, please?" He pulls on Louis's sweater wondering why the hell he's wearing that in this half-tropic city.

Louis smiles as he wraps his arms around Zayn. "I can't find Harry. Have you seen him?"

"No, last I saw him, he was in your room last night. After you left, we all were pretty tired. We went to bed early," Zayn pops an eyebrow.

".... No reason...." Louis looked down at his sleeves, his heart a little heavy though he didn't understand why. Then he saw the broken shards of the plate in the trash and remembered. Sighing, he walked into the couch and dramatically flopped down, his legs shooting up and falling with a thud.

Then he felt something under his head.

"Okay," Louis looks down at his sleeves, his heart heavy. The previous night flashes in his mind: throwing away his plate and acting dramatic.

Sighing, he walks into the living room and flops down on the couch. "What?" He reaches behind his head as his skull feels something wadded up.

"What the fuck?" He gasps as he picks up a t-shirt. It's the one Harry was wearing last night after slam poetry. The one he removed from his body before he fainted. "He put this back on. What the fuck? Where is he?"

"No, no. He wouldn't do that. No," He screeches.

Hearing Louis's cries, Zayn rushes toward him. He tries to grab him before he can twist the doorknob to Taylor's room.

"Louis, wait!" He begs as he pieces together what happened based on Taylor's undergarments lying in the hallway.

Zayn's efforts are rejected. It's too late. Louis looks on as Taylor and Harry, who aren't even cuddling, are both asleep. They're cozy under the blanket.

Louis's knees buckle as Zayn catches him just before he hits the ground. He walks him out to the balcony instructing him to feel the slight breeze on his face. He needs a cigarette for this.

"Lou, I'm sorry. He's done this before to people in the past, but it was funny then. It's not funny now," Zayn takes a long drag. "I'm going to kill him.

"Niall promised me last night on the phone, Zayn! He sniffles. "He said don't worry, Lad. Nobody is ganging up on you. They all love you, especially Harry. Then we said I love you and goodnight. He made me promise I'd apologize to you all this morning," His chest falls feels tight, heavy, and it's hard to breathe.