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I fell asleep while tracing Harry's swallow tattoos, the gentle rise and fall of his chest beneath my head being the sole thing that helped me drift off, but what wakes me is the bothersome ringing of Harry's cellphone.
He jolts awake beneath me at the shrill sound before gently trying to remove my head from his body and onto the pillow without waking me, but when he glances down and sees my golden eyes fluttering open and squinting away the sleepiness, he shushes me softly and says, "Sorry. Just go back to sleep, darling. It's probably nothing."
Harry's voice is so deep and raspy, still full of sleep despite the loud ringing that jolted us both awake from our perfect slumber. His curly hair is a mess and kinkier than ever as he pushes it from his eyes and rolls over, the white hotel comforter pulling off of me slightly as he unknowingly pulls it with the movement of his shirtless body.
Laying back and nuzzling deeper under the covers, I expect Harry to instantly lay back down and cradle me in his arms again, but instead he stays in his position leaning on his side, and the phone keeps annoyingly ringing. I sit up and peer over his broad shoulder to see what has him so shaken, the bright light of the phone illuminating his face with Zayn's contact calling. My eyes scrunch up in confusion when they flit over to the clock and see the red lights blinking 2:17 A.M., wonderment filling me as to why Zayn would be calling so late.
I place my hand gently on Harry's shoulder, and at my action he looks at me with worried eyes that I reciprocate, nodding at him worriedly that he should answer. It's barely been four days since Zayn left, no one hearing from him except when he called to let us know that he made it home okay, but other than that he's been silent. Harry and I are both hoping that Zayn might be calling to inform he's coming back, however we both know that probably isn't the truth of this call.
"Hello?" Harry finally answers, rolling over to sit up against the head board, voice still extremely slow and much deeper than usual, almost like his vocal chords are trying to push through peanut butter. He has one arm holding the phone up to his ear and the other crossed over his stomach while I sit up quickly, my body exposed to the cold room as soon as the sheets fall from my upper body. I sit there, leaning on my hand and nervously watching Harry's face for any signs of what could be happening.
Harry's brows are furrowed like they always are when he's listening intensely to someone, always giving them his full attention, and telling by the way he hasn't spoken since answering, Zayn must need it. The skin around my pinky finger starts to hurt with the way I've started assaulting it by roughly twisting my ring, and the metal taste of blood hits my tongue for a split second when I bite into my cheek too roughly.
"Yeah, she's right here," Harry says to Zayn as his eyes fall to me. I simply stare at him in confusion, the sleep quickly fleeting from my body.
I'm starting to think nothing serious is wrong until Harry's furrowed face completely falls, a tinge of pink spreading from his nose to his cheeks as his eyes become overwhelmed with tears. My own eyes widen at his newly saddened state, watching helplessly as he brings his hand to his mouth to try and hide his sobs. "Is this some sick joke, mate? Because it wasn't funny the first time you all pranked me, and it isn't funny this time," Harry says breathily as his shoulders start to shake.
I so badly want to ask what's wrong but don't want to interrupt him, so all I do is put a hand on his that covers his mouth and gently pull it down causing him to let out a shaky breath when our eyes meet. Rubbing small and reassuring circles around the cross tattoo on his hand, I start trying to get him to breathe more steadily with me by taking in slow breaths and then releasing them.
"Please don't do this," Harry practically begs causing me to squeeze his hand tighter when more tears fall from his eyes like a tidal wave. "I get that you have to, but I wish you didn't. I wish I could fix this," he quickly adds, making my heart stop beating for what feels like an eternity.
Instantly, I know.
"Don't apologize," Harry sniffles, reining in his sobs that I know he so desperately wants to let out, because mine are now threatening to pour out one tear and tremble of my fragile body at a time. "Please don't apologize, Zayn. We'll be okay, and so will the fans. You aren't letting anyone down. I promise."
My stomach starts to churn with a mixture of sadness and shock, but deep down I knew this was coming. I've known since the moment we all performed together at the karaoke club in Hong Kong and I saw Zayn's face. He wanted to stay for the sake of the boys, especially after the fun we all had together that night, but he knew that moment was fleeting, and the tour would be more of the same stress and anxiety for him than the fun times.
I can't blame him, and I don't. None of us do, but Harry's reaction- the reaction I'm sure Niall, Liam, and Louis will have will be just as valid as Zayn's need to leave. They're allowed to be sad, and I know Zayn understands that, especially after he told me that one of the big reasons he stayed as long as he did was because of them.
Harry and Zayn talk for a moment longer before I barely hear Zayn say, "I'm sorry."
The line goes dead, and Harry's sobs unleash.
I've never seen him cry like this in the four and a half years I've known him, and it's absolutely breaking me to see such a beautiful and kind hearted person hurt so much. The way his body shakes with each sob terrifies me, but I can't show it, because I have to be strong for Harry. My own tears are falling, and they start pouring more rapidly when my own body starts to sob with Harry's, realizations setting in that I'm going to have to stay strong for not only him but for Liam, Louis, and Niall too.
In the pitch darkness of the hotel room, the only light is from the occasional lightning that strikes outside and lights up the entire room for a split second before going dark again. Harry's cries mix with the new sounds of thunder and pouring rain outside as he begins to mutter things about how Zayn is gone and isn't coming back.
We are both sitting upright in bed, wrapped in each other's arms, his squeezing me so tight that it feels like we're melding together. There's a growing wet spot on my shirt from his tears, but I don't mind, because the bare skin of his shoulder is moist from my own iridescent rays of sadness.
Even though it's been less than five minutes since Zayn broke Harry the news, the void that his absence leaves is already so prominent, and when a knock sounds at the door, I know exactly who it is, and I'm not sure I'm ready to see my other role models cry too.
Niall, Liam, and Louis all stand at the door in their pajamas, pouring in and taking seats around the room. I sit back on the warm bed, Harry having turned on a lamp and pulling on a shirt when I got up to answer the door, so now I can see just how broken my green eyed boy really is and it hurts worse than any physical pain I've ever felt in my life.
Harry lets his eyes fall as he appears to be ashamed of himself.
Niall has his arms wrapped protectively around himself almost to keep anymore pain from hitting his chest.
Liam is openly crying, not even trying to hide it anymore.
Louis simply stares in disbelief at each of us, looking more angry than anything as he states, "I guess the official announcement will be made today then?"
When no one answers him, I watch as the boy finally breaks from his overly tough persona and actually starts to shake with sobs, similar to how Harry was only a moment ago.
The simple sight of one of the strongest people I know finally losing it only makes me start to cry again, everyone else following.
One Direction is completely and utterly broken, and I'll honestly be surprised if they ever fully recover.
Either that, or they'll come out of this stronger than ever.
I'm hoping for the latter.
Spaces between us keep getting deeper.