olivia [zarry]

chapter ten| to be loved

The words cause a myriad of emotions to surge through him. Harry's heart rate picks up. He's almost certain that he's stopped breathing, and his head is spinning. He can't decipher if that's just a result of all the alcohol he consumed at the party, or the fact that Zayn is standing only a few feet away from him right now and just uttered those words, but eventually, he manages to choke out a "What?"

Zayn is here, in the flesh, in his doorway, and his eyes are red, and his hair is tousled, appearing as if his fingers have run through it several times, and Harry nearly breaks down for the second time this night. Even disheveled, in the shitty light of his hallway, Harry can't help but think that he's never seen anyone more beautiful, but he's still out of reach. He always will be.

"We broke up, Harry," Zayn repeats, his voice a low mumble.

Harry hears the words, but they don't quite register in his mind, or maybe he's just really shit at comprehending. "I'm sorry, what? Why? When? What?"

Zayn sighs, twisting his ear. "Just a few minutes ago. Can I come in?"

"No."

He raises a perfectly shaped dark eyebrow. "No?"

Harry shakes his head. "I mean, yes. Of course you can," he steps aside to let him through, "but no. No no no. Don't tell me you broke up with her because I almost kissed you?"

Zayn's eyes flit across the room, probably because he's only been here the handful of times Louis forced Harry to host game night at their place, and he's probably never really had the chance to take a good gander at the room given he's always had Olivia on his chest and in his arms to distract him, before turning back to Harry. He shakes his head too. "Harry, I didn't-"

"Tell me you didn't do that," he demands, not letting him finish. He's not sure he's ready for the answer.

"I'm try-"

"Oh God," he cries, flinging a hand up to his forehead in realization. The action only causes his headache to intensify. "She's going to kill me when she finds out. She's going to kill you when she finds out. She's going to kill both of us, so thanks a lot, Zayn." He throws both his arms up in exasperation. "I have to go see her." He yanks on a curl, moving away from Zayn to scrabble about for his jacket where he'd cast it to the floor. "I have to see how she's doing. I can't believe you did this. How could you do this? And on the night she threw you a surprise party?"

Zayn groans, stuffing both his hands in his coat pockets on a roll of his eyes. "Harry, if you'd just-"

"She's probably heartbroken." Harry stops in his tracks, tightening his grip on his jacket as he bites down on his bottom lip, gnawing at it. "Oh, I'm a horrible best friend, probably the fucking worst in history. How could I fall for my best friend's boyfriend?" He whispers, feeling tears brim in his eyes from repugnance. "And then try to kiss him on top of that? I think I need to throw up." He's not even kidding. He really does feel poorly.

"Wait a minute." Zayn steps forward, his brow creasing. "How could you what?"

Harry takes a deep breath, shrugging his jacket on. "Now's really not the time, Zayn. I'm sorry, but right now, I have to head to the store to get some chocolate and ice cream and possibly a bulletproof vest."

Zayn holds his arms out in front of him as he blocks the exit. "Harry, would you stop it?"

"No, I have to go," he stubbornly insists, trying to move past him.