It was around 8 when Harry woke up, Zayn still on top of him, sleeping peacefully, his jet black hair sticking onto his forehead, the sight was beautiful and Harry's favorite thing about it was how long and curly Zayn's eyelashes were.
Harry didn't want to move, or wake Zayn up, he could feel Zayn's heartbeat on his naked chest, Zayn's heart was beating faster, well he is smaller so it probably makes sense.
He was lost in the thought of comparing his heart beat with Zayn's and studying it that he didn't notice the smaller boy is awake.
You think nothing can wake Zayn up, and you are almost right, but Harry's slow heart beat was a lullaby for Zayn, slow and calm, but he felt Harry's heart going boom boom all of the sudden and well, it woke him up.
Zayn pulled himself up, still hazy from the deep slumber, he frowned, looking at Harry with questioning eyes, "are you alright?"
Harry was just staring at Zayn, admiring his deep accent, at some point he stopped breathing.
Zayn pulled himself completely up, almost sitting on Harry's lap, "what's wrong? Harry?" he tried again, a little scared.
Just a bit.
His green eyes were dry from not blinking for so long, his breathing was slow and shallow, almost as if he wasn't breathing, his mind was blank, just like his eyes, Zayn couldn't read him.
Zayn knew this happens when Harry is nervous, he needs a little time to come back, maybe a bit of comfort.
Kneeling next to the couch, Zayn decided to play with Harry's hair, reminding him to breathe, that its ok, that he is there.
"I'm here Harry, just breathe, I'm right here," next was always 'you'll never be alone', he used to say that, but he left, he knows nothing is permanent anyway.
Harry was chanting Zayn's every word in his head, it felt like hours till he was back to reality, he turned his head to face Zayn, "you are here, you are right here, and I'll never be alone... right? that's what you used to say at least." Harry said, eyes a little wet, not from crying, no, from staring at nothing for so long.
Zayn's stare was hollow, suddenly emotionless, almost scary, he slowly pulled his fingers away from Harry's curls, "I'll go to bed, goodnight." And he walked out.
Harry wanted to laugh, really loud, or maybe break something.
He laid there, deciding to not to think much, just waiting for the day Zayn leaves again, who knows maybe he wakes up alone again.
The thought of that gave him chills, he felt cold sweat on the back of his neck.
Food, he needs food.
It was around 9 and he just needed something greasy.
something cheesy and greasy.
Walking to the kitchen, he prayed he still has some lasagna in the freezer.
"yes!" he mumbled when he saw there is still some left, he popped it in the oven and opened a beer for himself.
Gulping down the liquid, Harry shot a glance to his bedroom, their bedroom, he chuckled wondering how long does he have to live in the fear of being left alone, how long does he have to push to get answers from Zayn.
You see, Harry is not the one to move on, he just can't, a simple reminder is enough to bring all the memories, every detail, back.
It could be a song, a picture, a word, a smell, a simple paper cut on his finger, and they are all back, making him run in the tunnel of his past, sometimes losing the time, staring at the walls for hours, just having to deal with unwanted souvenirs of bygones.
The little beep from the oven broke Harry out of his faze, he took a deep breath, calming his nerves down.
Food is a cure all, so he is just gonna eat.
He took the hot sauce out of fridge, he sat down to take the first bite when he remembered Zayn went to bed without food.
"he is a grown man, he eats if he is hungry." He said to himself, bringing the fork to his mouth, only to drop it back in the plate, cuz he knows Zayn can sleep with an empty stomach, hell, he can go all day with empty stomach without complaining.
"fuck me, fuck my life." He grunted under his breath, making a plate for Zayn too.
He was making a whole dinner in bed thing, then he remembered he is not a freaking servant, he just removed some of the luxuries.
He entered the room without knocking, only to witness Zayn curling in a ball under the sheets, ragged breathing was heard and Harry thought maybe he is having a nightmare.
So he put the tray on his side of bed, but Zayn was awake so he felt the movement.
"oh, you're awake," Harry stated the obvious.
"yeah," Zayn mumbled, his voice sounded like he was in pain?
"what's wrong?" Harry asked hesitantly.
And it was that moment when you are just waiting for someone to ask what's wrong to burst, to just cry and let it out, so Zayn just did that.
Bursting into tears, hugging his knees to his chest, catching Harry off guard.
"what the-" Harry walked next to him, studying him for any bruise, bleeding, cut, anything, a fever, nothing.
he looked ok, but he was sweating, and crying.
"Zayn you need to tell me what's wrong, talk to me." Harry said, trying to keep his voice calm.
He was freaking out.
"it- it hurts!" Zayn mumbled through his cries.
"what hurts wifey?" he cooed.
Cooing was not planned.
Where did that come from?
"my- my chest, l-legs, my back! Everything!"
Well cooing works.
Here goes nothing.
"rough sex, cold night, nothing a hot bath can't fix!" he said, like he was talking to a child, Zayn would probably end up taking painkillers, Harry just wanted to delay that as much as possible.
Harry put the blanket back on Zayn, making sure he is warm, he walked to his bathroom, filling the tub with hot water, adding some sea salt and some drops of eucalyptus extract, it was magic when he was in pain.
"come on Zayn," Harry helped Zayn up on his feet.
Zayn frowned, what happened to wifey?
The bathroom smelt amazing, and even though Zayn was not a fan of water, he just wanted to jump in the hot water and let Harry take care of him.
He wanted Harry take care of him.
"alright, hop in, I'll put the towel behind the doo-"
he is leaving?
"you are leaving?" Zayn asked, eyes still red and teary.
How could he look beautiful when he just cried?
"um- yeah- I thought you'd need some time alone?"
"oh-"
"you want me to stay?" he just needed to hear it, for Zayn to say it.
"if its ok." Zayn didn't want to plea, but he really wanted Harry there.
"its fine, yeah."
Harry was the first to sit in the water, he had to bend his legs, he needs a bigger tub.
Zayn step in carefully, Harry helped him to settle.
"what hurts?" Harry asked.
"my chest, it- it hurts a lot." Zayn answered, swallowing down a cry.
Harry helped him get comfortable.
Zayn leaned back, taking a deep breath of the fresh aura.
What he didn't expect was Harry pouring warm water on his chest, kinda massaging him.
Harry blames it on the humid weather, his hands were having mind of their own.
Yes, it makes sense.
After some time like this, Zayn's mind was hazy, but calm, he was in pain but it was bearable.
Harry's hands found their way to Zayn's hair, just massaging his scalp.
"don't call me Zayn."
Harry could swear his eyes popped out of his head.
"what?" he said, trying not to sound too surprised.
"don't stop calling me wifey, I hate it." And he just got comfortable on his side, head still on Harry's chest and he closed his eyes.
Harry's is big, he can definitely pick him up, he just needs to sleep.
Harry's tongue was tied, one second he knows, he just knows that it's just a matter of time when Zayn leaves him again, and the other he feels it could last forever.
But Harry is not the one to build his hopes high.
He can't change.
He won't.
Not just cuz there might be hope.
********************
soooooooooo
late but, happy new year.
ps. i had to add these two too.
moving on...
so i tried to be faster this time...
how was it? what do ya think?
thanks for reading, love ya all.