Once in a Lifetime

Twenty.

When Harry returned to Cheshire the next day, he was greeted by his family asking hundreds of questions.

"Was he happy to see you?"

"How did you celebrate his birthday?"

"What was his name again?" That one was Robin, and Harry shook his head at his stepdad's forgetfulness.

"What is his family like?"

"Is he your boyfriend yet?" Trust Gemma to be the one to ask that.

Harry stood in the kitchen, stirring the gravy as he tried to answer all their questions. "Yes, he was happy. We, uh, went to KFC then went to the pub. Again, his name is Louis. His mum was very welcoming and, uh, he has two sisters, Daisy and Phoebe, but they're identical twins and I can't tell them apart. And no, Gemma, he is not my, um, my boyfriend." The conversation about Louis continued the whole time they were cooking lunch, and Harry could feel his cheeks heating up as the conversation went on.

"You were in such a rush yesterday, you barely told us anything about Louis. How did you meet him, dear?" Anne asked as they all sat down at the dining toom table.

"It's a long story, actually. I'm not sure it's something to, um, talk about over lunch," Harry answered, looking down at his plate.

"Come on, Harry, tell us how you met! It will be a great story for the wedding," Gemma smirked, earning a glare from Robin. He had always been on Harry's side, especially when it came to Gemma trying to wind him up. After a little persuasion, Harry gave in and started to tell them the story.

"Louis' childhood best friend, who he lived with and went to uni with, he, um, he took his own life," Harry began, earning a gasp from Anne. "Louis didn't come to class for a few weeks and when he came back, he was really sad and I, um, I couldn't let him leave the lecture knowing he was feeling like that, so I made him come to a café with me and I talked at him for a while. Louis was silent the whole time, he refused to talk to anyone at all, including his friends, family, and teachers. We hung out a few times, sometimes Louis would smile and let me talk rubbish, but other times he would just, um, cry and I'd hold him. Louis is really good at football, and after a match he fainted, and I was there, and we ended up swapping numbers. When he overheard his friends fighting, he texted me and I took him back to mine and he stayed the night. He actually, um, avoided me for a while after that, but I met his friend in a pub and we swapped numbers, and um, that night Louis had an issue at home and his friend called me to help and I took him back to my house again and he finally talked to me. He completely confided in me, and he stayed for a while until he fixed the issue with his friends. We've been, uh, getting quite close so when I got the call yesterday saying that Louis was sad, I wanted to be the one to cheer him up. It was his first birthday without his best friend, and he was struggling, so yeah, that's the traumatic story of how we met. Are you glad you made me tell you over Christmas lunch?" The room was so quiet, only the soft breathing of the four adults could be heard, until Robin finally broke the silence.

"I'm proud of you for being the person he obviously needed, Harry." They didn't talk about Louis again for the rest of the day, mainly because they knew that Harry was texting him constantly, and they didn't want to embarrass him.

For Louis, the day went a little differently. He held in his emotions until Harry left, giving him a tight hug, and thanking him for everything. But when he watched his car drive away, Louis couldn't help but get upset. Harry, the one person that knew how to make him feel better, was gone. He went straight for the shower, ignoring Harry's disappointed voice in his head as he scrubbed and scrubbed. Eventually, when his skin was sore and his mum was knocking on the bathroom door to get him to come downstairs, he dried himself and put on his favourite Christmas jumper. They opened presents in front of the tree, and Louis did his best to seem happy and interested. He'd always loved Christmas before, but now he felt so far away from the childhood magic that Christmas normally brought. They ate their Christmas dinner together, telling cracker jokes and wearing the paper hats. His sisters asked lots of questions about Harry, and Louis smiled whenever he had the opportunity to tell his family about the long-haired lad. They text all afternoon, and it was the only thing that stopped Louis from bursting into tears at the thought of not being able to open a present from Zayn or watch his smile light up the room when he opened the gifts Louis had bought him. He wanted to cry at the thought of Yaser and Trisha sitting in front of their own tree, none of the presents addressed to Zayn, or sitting down to eat dinner with an empty space at the table. When these thoughts got too much for him to handle, he told his mum he was going out, and threw on the thickest coat he owned. He drove to the only place he knew Zayn would be, and found himself sitting on the cold, icy grass opposite his headstone. 'In loving memory of Zayn Javaad Malik. Taken from his family and friends far too soon.' Louis reached out, the tips of his fingers gently grazing each letter as he read it. It was the first time he had come here since the funeral and knowing that Zayn's body was just a few feet away creeped Louis out a bit. In this moment, it was the closest he could possibly be to Zayn, but he also couldn't get any further away either.

"I'm so sorry, Z. I'm so sorry I couldn't save you. I hate myself for being the reason you're gone, I hate that I failed to keep you alive, but you have to know I didn't mean for this to happen. You have to know I spend every day regretting the things I did or didn't do that resulted in you leaving. Honestly, it still doesn't feel real that you're gone. I still wake up every day and check my phone, hoping to see a message from you. I still catch myself waiting in the car after a lecture, thinking that you're going to come rushing over with your hands covered in paint. I keep finding myself looking at the front door, expecting you to just waltz through and make everything okay again. Harry said that it's okay for me to be sad, and I need to grieve in my own way, but I feel guilty doing that. It's my fault you're gone, I have no right to be sad, do I? It's my fault your parents are spending their first Christmas without you, and it's my fault we're all having to adjust to life without you. I don't get to feel sad for something I caused."

"It's not your fault, Lou-Lou." Louis looked up, his eyes landing on a shadowy figure standing the other side of the headstone. "None of this is your fault, okay? I chose to go. Me. I chose not to tell anyone about my mental health. I chose to buy the blade. I chose to hurt myself. I chose to end my life, Louis, not you. You did everything to help, I know you did. You let me cry on your shoulder. You dragged me out of bed even when I didn't want to. You made me go to class and continue fighting. You made me fight, Louis. You were my best friend, the only person I trusted, and you never failed me. If anything, Lou, I failed you. Did you ever think about that? I died in my room, knowing that it would be you who found me. I let you leave that day, knowing that if I asked you to stay things would have been different. I hid it from you, Louis. I made you believe that you were a bad person when it was me. I was selfish and I did the thing no friend should ever do. I let you blame yourself for my own actions."

"You, you didn't do that. Any one of us could have found you. I should have stayed home, knowing that you hadn't called your parents and that you weren't well. I should have done more!" Louis was crying by now, his tears falling down his cheeks and landing on the grass beneath him.

"No, Lou, I wanted you to find me. I wanted you to be the one who held my body for the final time. Why do you think I wrote the notes and put them on the fridge? I knew that Liam would get the soup from the freezer, I knew that you would then need a drink and go to the fridge. I wanted you to read the note, do the calculations, and come find me. It had to be you, Louis."

"Why me?" Louis asked, staring straight at the familiar figure.

"You were the most important person in my life, and I wanted you to be the last person I loved that would ever touch me. I told you it was selfish, Lou. None of this was your fault, I promise. I knew what I was doing. I planned it knowing that you'd be stressing about your exams so you wouldn't notice when I became more distant. I planned it knowing that you, Liam, and Niall would be out of the house for a few hours, and you'd all come back together, because even though I wanted you to find me, I didn't want you to do it alone. I planned it, Louis, why can't you see that?"

"It hurts more to blame you than it does to blame myself," Louis admitted, finally tearing his eyes away from Zayn's own.

"You have to stop blaming yourself, okay? This Harry guy was right, you're allowed to be upset. In fact, it's good that you're upset, it means you actually cared about me, but you have to stop being upset for the wrong reasons. Be upset because I'm gone, because you'll never see me again, because I was important to you and you miss me, but please, stop being upset because you think all of that is your fault. I want you to be happy, Louis, can you be happy for me?" Louis stayed quiet, thinking about everything he was hearing. He knew Zayn wasn't real, he wasn't really stood in front of him, but, deep down, he knew that what ghost-Zayn was saying was true. Louis didn't hold the blade. Louis didn't stop him from getting help. Louis didn't kill him.

"How can I be happy without you?" he sighed, wiping his tears away as he looked back up to his best friend.

"Harry seems like a pretty good place to start."When Louis blinked away his tears, Zayn was gone. The thoughts spiralled in hishead, so he pulled out his phone and called for the one person he knew couldmake him feel better. Harry.