Louis
The publishing house is breathing down my neck. Harry's way behind with his novel. No wonder he spends all his time with Zayn. I'm pretty sure they have a soft spot for each other.
Today I have an appointment with Harry. He has to give me some chapters and on that occasion I'll check the situation and take a look at his divine neighbour.
Harry
Together with Louis I sit in the garden over my manuscripts.
"Hazza, I want to know what you've been doing the last few weeks. You haven't made any progress. I'm not used to that from you. What's going on? What is it?"
Louis looks serious.
"Ah...I...", I stutter and try to figure out a justification.
"So what is it, Haz? Are you distracted by anything?"
My wife comes along and follows our conversation with interest.
"I don't understand, honey. You have all day, don't you? Why can't you put something down on paper," she says reproachfully.
Why is she actually interfering in this conversation now? After all, I don't criticize her work either.
"Well. Having time is one thing. The other is how you use it. Am I right, Harry?" Louis indirectly agrees with her and smiles gloatingly.
I hope I don't blush. What is this cat-and-mouse game? Does Louis suspect anything?I'm tired of all his stupid questions.
"I just had a little writer's block. Ever heard of it?" I reply.
"Aha, a writer's block, then," my publisher says.
He's sore and leans back over the paper stack piling up on the table.
"And when do you think this writer's block will be over and you plan to finish the novel? We have a release date to meet, Harold!"
"You think I don't know that, Lou? You want me to write reams about something totally insignificant to fill blank pages?"
"How about you just write about your personal experiences, huh? That would certainly fill a lot of pages in your book," it bursts out of him.
This sentence hits me in the mark. Am I mistaken or do I hear sarcasm from his words? Everything he says sounds ambiguous and I immediately associate it with the events of the last day.
"Louis, what do you mean by personal experiences? What are you getting at? I really don't experience anything exciting or criminal in my everyday life," I growl.
"Oh, come on. You can't tell me that your life has nothing exciting to offer."
Taylor sits at the table with her mouth open and her gaze wanders back and forth between me and him.
"Is your life really that boring? I hardly believe that. Still waters run deep, as you know, Hazza. So tell us your secret."
"What is that all about, Louis? Did you get up on the wrong side of the bed? Why are you harping on the matter like that?"
Outraged and quite annoyed, I stand up and walk aimlessly through the garden. I can't really assess the situation. What does he know about me and Zayn? Does he know anything at all? After a while I go back to both of them and sit down on my chair again.
"Well, I might be able to help you out," he suddenly says.
My cheeks are blushing. Taylor is squinting and stares at us in amazement.
"How are you going to help Harry out? Now it's getting very interesting," she grumbles and takes a sip of coffee. Her fingers cling to the handle of the cup.
"Did I miss anything?" Her question sounds sharp and fearful.
Louis leans back demonstratively in the chair, arms folded behind his head and says:
"I don't know, dear. Ask your husband."
Now I'm really in trouble. No, this isn't happening! Is he trying to humiliate me in front of Taylor or make me talk? He obviously seems to enjoy his superiority in this matter.
"Do you have something to tell me, Harry?"
Her question it's imprinted on my brain. Zayn was right. Tomlinson is an asshole. I'm still looking for the source of his behavior. We've been getting along very well over the last few years. There have never been such incidents or rivalries. Where does his sudden change of heart come from? He notices how he drives me into a corner and embarrasses me. What does he hope to accomplish with this?
"Well, Harry?", my wife asks again.
"Fuck you both ..', I gasp and I'm leaving the table again.
That's all I could think of. I feel hunted and interrogated, wanting to escape her annoying questions. When I want to go inside in frustration, Louis calls after me:
"By the way, Harry, you're wearing a very nice necklace. I hadn't even noticed it before."
My head turns to him. Like a mantra I think. Don't let on, don't let on, Harry.
"Lou, I've had it for ages. What does my necklace have to do with the novel?"
"Did I say that? I only noticed this beautiful piece of jewellery. I've seen it somewhere before. Where was it?" he says smugly and grins.
"Can we please concentrate on my book now? That's what you came here for".
I want to spit in his face. I've got all this anger and self-hatred built up inside me. The feeling is stronger than I can bear it. What have I done? I should have known that there is nothing but trouble. Sunk in my self-doubt, Louis almost spills the bean.
"How is your lovely neighbor actually?" he asks out of the blue.
For a second I think about exploding or killing him. A mixture of jealousy, fear of betrayal and disgust comes up in me. I should have known. So that's what it's all about. It's about Zayn? Does Louis like Zayn?
"I don't know. We haven't seen each other for a while. Why do you care?" I answer him as calmly as possible.
"Let's take a short break. If I'm already in the area, I'll stop by the great artist and see how he is doing with the portrait."
With it he stands up and leaves the property.
Taylor is still amazed at the conversation. Petrified, she sits there, the cup in her hand and her eyes dull.
"What's the matter with him today? Is there something a little fishy about Louis to you?"
I nod at her in agreement, but don't say a word. I don't like that he goes to my boyfriend. I know that he finds him attractive. Who doesn't? How will Zayn react to him? Trust him, Harry, I think. When he touches my man with his long fingers and caresses the sun-kissed skin...My imagination is running away with me! Quickly I set these thoughts aside.
Louis
This is the right time. Before I go to the Maliks to visit the Pakistani beauty, I place two cameras inconspicuously by the patio door and in the bookshelf. They should be enough to gather some information and then strike. I'm going to catch them red-handed one day. Zayn won't be able to reject me forever. If I want him, I'll have him, too. I will do so by any means necessary and the pale Harold will have to come to terms with it. I'd move heaven and earth for Zayn. Always being there for him, personally taking care and anticipating his every wish - all this makes up a perfect love.
My finger lies on the bell button of the neighbouring house. Approaching footsteps. I am nervous, but at the same time also excited. How will he react to me? The door opens and the most beautiful man in the world stands in front of me. He scowls at me as soon as he sees me. The golden eyes sparkle.
"What do you want? Did I not make myself clear the other day?"
His negative attitude hurts me.
"Well, well, well, who's going to get so upset?" I react to the cold greeting.
"I actually wanted to inquire about my painting, Zayn," I quietly reply.
"I'll let you know when it's done. Any more question?" he growls.
"Aren't you going to invite me in?" I venture to go ahead.
"What for? I don't know why."
"Well, I'm thinking of our little arrangement, Zayn. It seems it is off to a promising start. You haven't forgotten, have you?"
"Which arrangement? No idea what you're talking about," he returns.
Of course he knows what I'm talking about. It's worth a try, Malik, but I've seen through you for a long time, I think.
Zayn's furious with anger.He rolls his eyes, bares his teeth and clench his fists.
"So what happens now, big daddy? Are you inviting me in, or do we want to discuss out here? We should make better use of our time."
"Don't call me Daddy! Shouldn't you be with the Styles?" he wants to know and tries to distract from the subject. He doesn't move a step away from the door.
"Oh, there's no hurry. First things first, Zaynie. And you are the most important thing to me. Harry can wait," I say.
"I'm busy, Tomlinson."
"I like to believe that. But we don't want your women to hear about this little adventure, do we?"
Zayn's taking one step out now. His body is extremely tense. He's scary.
"Save your blackmail and your heart for someone else. Get the hell out of my life," he growls and is about to close the door behind him.
"Whatever you say, my dear. You know, I won't hesitate to tell them about you and Harry."
My answer sounds bitter. Out of pure desperation about his rebuff, I decide to risk the next step. Gently I let my index finger run over his chest. Zayn flinches.
"Take your hands off me. You disgust me, Tomlinson. Well, I don't want to put a fine point on it, but you are cheap. Don't you disgust yourself? Why don't you understand that you're of no interest to me. You don't fascinate me. So don't even try to seduce me. It won't work."
Zayn says that contemptuously and coldly, but I wouldn't dream of leaving. I've tasted blood and it is sweet. He's a real challenge. I believe one day he'll love me. Zayn just needs time. My hand grabs his waist and pulls him closer to me.
"Go away at last, Tomlinson," he says.
Completely unimpressed, I lay my head against his chest and cover it with kisses. Just at this moment Harry comes around the corner. When he spotted us, he stops and turn into a pillar of salt.
"Harry", Zayn groans, pushes me away and blushes.
"What's going on here? Louis! Zayn," stutters the curly head.
"Oh, Harry. You are...uh...maybe a little inconvenient. Zayn, we should have gone inside," I say to him and pat him lovingly on his cheek.
"Well, that's just the way he is. Isn't that right, handsome? For him it just can't move fast enough. But I wanted to keep our young love secret."
The naive, good Harold and his heart... is just going to... cave in. With narrowed eyes and a heartbreaking look he stands in front of us. Stunned, he shakes his wild curls.
"N..o..o..o." he says.
"Harreehh, please wait," Zayn shouts across the street as the young man hurries home.
But Harry doesn't hear him any more and doesn't turn to him either. Zayn lets his arms hang and looks unhappy.
"Well Zaynie, you really blew it, didn't you?" I laugh gloatingly.
"Get the hell out of my life, Tomlinson," he laboriously presses out and struggles for composure.
It's actually time for me to go. This effort, I knew, requires a willingness to achieve one's goals in stages, however imperfect.
Zayn
Shit, shit, shit. Hazza came at that very moment when the creep was getting into my pants. He probably thought we were having a good time in front of the house. Louis' words did not exactly contribute to the opposite. "Young love"...I shudder at the thought. Harry's gonna hate me. I'm so sick and dizzy that I have to lean against the wall of the house to keep from falling. I got sweat on my face.
"Baby, please call me. We need to talk. You got it wrong. Let me explain. Please! I love you! Z."
Minutes later and still no reply from him. I feel so bad, I do feel used. I messed it up. Tomlinson, that son of a bitch, I hate him! Harry read the message long ago, but didn't answer it. I have to see him. I'm going over to him now. I need to talk to him otherwise I won't be able to sleep tonight. I can't stand it.
Harry
Zayn is at the door - as expected. The day can't get any worse. My eyes are swollen and red. Taylor immediately got suspicious. I told her that hay fever had caught me again. But in fact I cried. And now he stands at my front door and wants to talk to me. Zayn seems depressed.
He grabbed ahold of me, and he said:
"Baby, listen to me, please," he pleads.
"Don't call me baby," I hiss at him and try to free myself from his hands.
"Hazza, he hugged me, he kissed me. Please listen to me. I'm begging you," he sobs and holds his hands in front of his eyes.
"You have exactly one minute, Malik! Use it wisely".
I fold my arms in front of my chest and lean bored in the door frame. I try to look unimpressed, but in my face he sees how miserable and lonely I am.
"I wanted to tell you a long time ago, but I just never got around to it." he begins hesitantly.
"Ah, did you finally want to tell me About the young love between you and Lou? How kind of you! You want my blessing or something ? Safe your platitudes, I'm not 15 , Zayn. Get to the point."
My face is alternately hot and cold. I tremble all over my body with anger, disappointment and endless fear. He cheated on me - with Louis!
"Your publisher is blackmailing me," says Zayn dryly.
It's out. His words. Like the ground slipping out from under my feet. I don't quite understand. Louis blackmails him? With what? With the necklace? I shake my head in disbelief.
"Yeah, keep telling that yourself! Don't blame it on Louis! That's the pits, Zayn, to save your ass! I mean, there's no saving anything! "
"You--you don't believe me?"
Disappointed, he makes a face. Posture's slumped. Expression defeated.
"No, I don't believe you. Louis and I have known each other for half an eternity and this has never happened before. Since I'm aware of your fondness for acquaintances and amorous adventure, I don't believe you."
Silence. Neither of us says anything. We just look at each other silently and look into each other's souls. There is only emptiness, disappointment and helplessness.
Zayn never responded when I told him that I don't believe him. There was a look in his eye. I discovered in that look of his... more than bitterness - distance and fear of loss. His wonderful lips tremble.
"Nobody will believe me," he whispers. "Everyone will think I'm a liar. I guess that's it, Harry. So, I... guess there's no more.. Harry and Zayn."
When he's about to leave, I know he wasn't lying. I run after him and hold him by the arm.
"Zayn, wait! Come here to me,' I say gently. The golden eyes are filled with tears and a tiny one hangs in the long thick eyelashes. I pull the broken man to my chest and stroke his black hair to soothe him. Zayn cuddles up in my arms, sniffs loudly and I hear our hearts pounding.
"I believe you, Zayn."
His gaze turns to me and my heart overflows with pain. Seeing Zayn so humiliated almost breaks my heart.
"Haz, I love you. Why can't you understand that? How many times do I have to tell you?"
Zayn kisses me. We kiss each other deeply and full of love. He won't let me go. That shows me that he is telling the truth.
"We'll go out for a drink tonight and then we'll talk, yeah?" I say.
"We're talking Zayn...just talking - no sex."
Gratefully he nods.
"For the first time, I feel helpless.", he says. His strength is blown away.
"I pick you up at 8 o'clock, Zayn. Then we talk!"
"Harry, don't leave me alone with him. Please," he pleads and wipes his eyes.
"I'll never leave you alone again. I promise", I calm him down and take him back into my arms. Tenderly I caresses his cheeks. We are both exhausted, need rest.
"Haz, I love you. Please trust me. I have dreamed of you all my life. I could never hurt you.
He covers my face with countless hasty kisses, as if he was afraid I would run away from him.