Until you came (Zarry) /English Version

40. Silence

"Are you telling me, seriously, for real, you just wanted to have fun? That's why you got so drunk? You're talking a load of rubbish!"

I am surprised and can hardly believe it. What does he say? That is nonsense.

"Well, I just wanted to have fun," he repeats. "You're beginning to sound just like my wife, Harry," he adds contemptuously.

Not only the undertone bothers me, but also his words - my wife. One syllable, a knife in the heart. Once again I remember our night. You are my husband - he repeated several times and I didn't take it so seriously. But now that we are sitting so close together and I realize that we are drifting apart, those words are more important to me than anything else. I wish he would repeat them.

"Do I sound that way?"

"Yeah, and I don't like that. Why do I have to explain myself to you? I only owe Gigi an answer - not you," he grumbles.

"You stayed with us, Zayn."

"I already apologized, didn't I? I am very sorry if I've caused you any inconvenience."

I try to ignore the pang in my chest.

Zayn is still sitting impassive on the sofa. Only his hands have changed position.

"To be blunt, I didn't say it was inconvenience - quite the opposite."

I leave him in the dark, want to draw him out. It seems to work, because suddenly he turns to me and looks me straight in the eyes.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

It aroused his curiosity. The light brown of his eyes flickers and turns into shimmering gold. I smile meaningfully and leave this question unanswered. My fight for Zayn has begun. I can't lose him, I won't give him up - not again.

"Harry!" he asks with a hoarse voice. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Well, I enjoyed your... drunkenness... very much," I reply and know that he has no clue what I'm talking about.

"You...you have enjoyed my ....drunkenness...?" he repeats, looking helpless.

I nod in agreement and hear myself scream inside.

Now he stands up, runs to the window, opens it and leans out. I hear him breathing heavily. Frightened, I run after him. I am afraid that he will jump out of the window and put an end to his life. I don't know how I came up with that either, but the mood between us is more than tense. Discontent is bubbling under the surface, there is so much left unsaid and Zayn seems depressed. Carefully I hold him by his hips. This time he doesn't avoid my touch.

"What are you doing Zayn? Don't you feel well?"

"I'm breathing, Harry. I'm fine. I guess I just need some oxygen," he replies.

"Don't you want to know what I meant earlier?"

I want him to focus on our conversation again. He turns around and we are standing close to each other. Green meets golden.

"Why are you always very secretive about things, Harry? Just tell me what happened. I'm not in the mood for exciting stories. Make it short!" he hisses.

Zayn hides his feelings behind a facade. His bitterness is wearing him down. I feel like talking. Even then, a thousand words don't express what I feel for him. Words are fine, but I need to move on to actions. With my hands I reach for his beautiful face. His cheeks nestle into the palms of my hands. Slowly I pull him towards me and press my mouth on his full lips. Zayn tries to avoid the kiss. I won't let that happen.