A Thousand Years - Zarry AU

Chapter twenty two

Fixing someone ought to be a complex task Zayn knew he couldn’t possibly succeed. He had once thought of helping his friend during their primary years but only ended up making the other boy cry. And as to why, the chances of having his friend’s parents reconcile were lower than how he felt his pet dog would survive after the horrendous accident of getting hit by their neighbor’s moving van. He was never good at consoling people, mending broken hearts, or sympathizing the ones who think too lowly of themselves.

The least he can do was to stare in hopelessness. His inner empathy lingered within his soul for as long as he could remember. The thought of releasing his imprisoned feeling grew futile on each passing unnoticed days. The last time he felt sorry was the exact day his friend cried, at how impossible his father would reappear in their front door asking for forgiveness and reconciliation. But the thought itself came absurd so Zayn just had to point it out on him. The unfortunate kid cried. Zayn felt sorry.

Harry was no longer at his house. Earlier that day, it was hard bidding their goodbyes knowing they would be lying asleep on separate beds. Harry kissed his cheeks, flustered at how cold his lips felt when it made contact on his skin. Zayn reached to capture his face, making eye contact with his boyfriend at once.

“Are you okay?” and he had phrased out the very first thing he wanted to ask, Harry’s well being of course. Was he alright the entire time they took apart? Maybe leaving Harry unaccompanied was something both shouldn’t have agreed on. But his boyfriend wasn’t a toddler, let alone a 10 year old kid who needed his supervision for all the goddamn time. But maybe he does? Maybe Harry really needed him. And there he was, sitting through his first lessons whilst itching gruesomely as he waited for the first bell to ring and have his teacher call it a tedious day.

“Yeah, I just missed you.” Harry’s lip corners twitched, an unfathomable expression, feeble or genuine? Hours spent during his classes were honestly horrid. He got dissed, insulted, harassed (got touched but nowhere near his private regions, thankfully). Harry mentally cursed himself. His mouth wanted to declare the struggles he sustained the whole day but opted to stay quiet. Harry fought the tears burning in the back of his eyes, he couldn’t stay truthful to Zayn after all.

Niall had taken him to the medical wing to give him pills, maybe Harry was sick? Or maybe not? The uncertainty still wrapped up Niall’s curiosity as Harry didn’t bother telling him the truth on why he threw up. Truth be told that the Irish boy felt somewhat hurt, aggravated in some sense but no way in hell he’d show Harry. Why does no one trust him? As far as he knows he can keep secrets, he gives meaningful advices and the Horan hug, how can someone decline that.

“I was with Niall earlier. I got a little bit sick, he helped me. So I guess I’m fine.” Harry gave another twitch. Zayn refuses to call it a smile.

“Sick? Do you want to stay at my flat first? You know I could always—” but then he was cut short.

“No Zayn. I’m fine. I guess coming home and see how my uncle’s going would cure the sickness coiling in my stomach.” Harry laughed at his own pun, it sounded too genuine and Zayn just had to crack a smile at that.

“You sure babe?” He persisted only to earn a genuine smile from the person he loved.

“I’m sure.”

x

It didn’t feel right when he arrived home, the place didn’t seem to glow, not without Harry around. Zayn dumped his bag beside the couch and sagged lazily as he brought both his feet to rest on top of the glass table.

“What did I tell you about your feet?”

Zayn jerked at the sound of his mother’s stern voice. Of course she was there, Tricia had told him she’d take off for the whole day as she couldn’t possibly teach children with her current groggy voice.