Until you came (Zarry) /English Version

33. Decisions

Zayn

We stayed silent for a while, breathing heavily next to each other. My apartment is now the sanctuary for us, for our love, for our need for security. My hope for acceptance has come true.
Harry snuggles up to my chest, runs his fingers over it and grunted satisfied.

"Look at us, Zaynie." he says and looks down at our bodies. "We better clean ourselves, otherwise we'll stick together," he jokes.

"I can't think of anything nicer, Hazza," I reply.

"Ew... that's disgusting, Mr. Malik. So if I had the choice, I'd prefer you'd get stuck deep inside me, if you know what I mean."

"Oha, Styles...what's going on in that pretty little head of yours. I am shocked. There's nothing left of the once shy man I met at the barbecue."

"You say it. Still waters run deep, you mark my words."

The curly head gets up, looking for his boxers and the rest of his clothes. His bare ass is turned towards me and I smile at the thought of being able to slap him on the butt. This view.

"You want to leave?" I ask, startled. "I was hoping we'd stay here for a while longer."

He shakes his head and doesn't give me the opportunity for a frank conversation.

"It's getting late. Taylor doesn't know I'm out with you. She'll probably freak out when I get home. I already have a guilty conscience."

"Of course, Taylor..." I sigh.

"I'm in the bathroom....and that's where you should go, by the way, we look awful," he remarks.

"What does it mean we look awful! We look gorgeous. You can't look bad after such great sex we had and for me, Harry, you always look adorable." I add.

In the bathroom I try to talk to him about us. It is really hard for me to find the right words. It has to be. I want to know what we have to expect in the future. I've made my decision. I would leave my wife for him, to start all over again. But does Harry want that too?"

"Haz?" I start cautiously. My voice trembles and my fingers clutch at the towel.
"What's up?" He mumbles and washes his body.
"Do you love me?"

Do you love me ... Is that the best you could come up with, Malik? In my mind I slap myself for this stupid sentence. Of course he loves me. The question is, how deep is his love. I'm just too imprecise.

"Huh? What kind of a question is that?"

Somewhat perplexed, he looks up, smiles and devotes himself to his hair.

"What's wrong with that? Do you love me Hazza?" I repeat myself.

My heart is pounding and I have the feeling of sitting in an exam and waiting for the result. Seconds pass and nothing happens. Diffidently I look in his direction. Harry combs his wild mane extremely slowly and doesn't seem interested in answering my question.

"Harry, I'm serious."

"What do you say? What do you mean seriously?"

"I asked you a question, Haz."

"Oh, of course I love you," he replies and kisses my cheek. "How could I not love you - you are a tiger in bed, huh."

My gut tells me he wasn't really thinking about it. I love my mother, I also love my siblings...but I love Harry beyond all measure. That's the crucial difference for me. For him it's all about sex. This statement...tiger in bed...almost hurts me. I am just a lover for him, no more and no less.

"You don't understand what I'm trying to say, do you?" I say.

Now he turns to me, takes my hands and says:

"Of course I understand you. I just don't know what you're getting at. Did I miss anything?"

"Harry, I'm talking about the deep feeling in my heart. I'm talking about that I can't live without you; that I always have to think about you. I am not talking about an affair or sex." I whisper.

Why do I currently have the feeling that my curly head doesn't want to hear exactly that from me? This revelation suddenly makes me so vulnerable and I almost regret my honest words.

"What are you saying?" whispers a completely surprised Harry.

"I said that I can't live without you, that I love you, that I want to share my life with you, Harry," I repeat more courageously.

"Zayn..." Harry struggles for words and for composure. He sinks to the edge of the bathtub.

"That...that...is impossible. That .... that .... doesn't work. Zayn, we never talked about that and I don't want to change my life. Everything is fine as it is."

I don't hear any of the other words he says in the bathroom afterwards. I am blind and deaf to his explanations. Harry was quite clear. Every now and then, I hear "Taylor".... "my wife"...... "Gigi"...... "impossible"...... "affair"... "I love my wife". Harry rebuilds his ideal world with his wife Taylor. I don't fit in his life, the eccentric, over sexed painter. I'm a flirt to him, maybe even a little more, but never the love, that he is for me.

I was so wrong about everything.

Deeply hurt in my soul, I just leave him, walk into the living room, grab my clothes, get dressed and leave the apartment without saying a word and the door locked itself behind me.

In the stairwell I hear him calling, I should wait, we have to talk about it.

I mean, what's the point?? It doesn't change anything for me. You are powerless against your heart. I don't understand his decision. With feelings, there's nothing to understand... and no way to explain.

The one thing I can't force: his love.

Late at night I arrive home. It's dark in the house, Gigi seems to be asleep. To be honest, I wouldn't care. I am prepared for a awful row from her; I know that Gigi will cry. Suddenly I am very afraid of my life.

My life, I think, what will it look like from now on? Harry's place remains empty. I will fill the emptiness with painting, I will devote myself again to my work, but also I will grieving for my great love. ....and then there's Louis.