Zarry Proofs You Gotta Believe

story time.1

You Never Do

By: liamlikesmugs

Summary:Anyone else remember when Zayn and Harry attended the same party back in early 2016?? Cos I do. This is a little Zarry something, slightly based on canon and by wepush on tumblr.

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By the time Harry's drinking catches up with him he's nearly three sheets to the wind, leaning up against the open bar while some up-and-coming songwriter prattles on in his ear about working her way up and networking and it's been interesting, but Harry's not really listening.

He's been focused on Zayn since the second he walked into the room.

Harry's sure Zayn's noticed his staring at least once or twice, but the most he's gotten in return was a blank stare and a cold shoulder to match the one Harry'd been ready to give.

He's annoying himself with how fixated he's become on Zayn. He honestly hadn't thought about him in weeks, months, and now, simply trying to share a room with him has become unbearable.

"I'm sorry," Harry says, giving a polite nod to Amy or Ashley, whatever her name is, and pulling out his cell. "I've got to give my mum a call. Promised I would."

She makes a strange cooing sound and dismisses him with a wave of her hand, telling him something about getting in touch with him via email. He smiles and turns away, shoving his phone back into his pocket before heading to the restroom.

Changing his mind, he switches his course and heads for the open doors that let out onto the crowded patio outside. He leans up against the railing that fences the property, staring out at the twinkling nightlife of Los Angeles as the after party rages on behind him.

He picks up his phone again, thumbing through his voicemails and scrolling down to the last time Zayn called him. Three months ago. They haven't actually spoken in so long, years, but that doesn't stop Zayn from calling him when he's partied too hard or gone too long without a decent night's sleep. Harry pushes on Zayn's latest voicemail, holding his breath as he brings the phone up to his ear.

"Miss you," Zayn had slurred into the phone, clearly under the influence of something or other, laughing quietly into the phone as the voicemail stretched on in silence. "Still waitin' for you to call me back." More silence, then the sound of a lighter clicking on in the background. "But you never do."

He brings the phone back down with a sigh, thumb hovering over the 'delete' button when he hears footsteps approaching.

"Wondered how long it was gonna take you to come out here."

Harry lets out a sigh when he hears Zayn's voice, shoulders sagging as Zayn gets closer.

"What?" Zayn asks, leaning against the railing next to Harry. "Didn't think I was gonna say anything to you?"

"Why would you?" Harry asks, not looking at him.

"I miss you."

"You only miss me when you're high," Harry says, finally turning to look at Zayn. And he's not wrong, his eyes are red and he smells of smoke.

"Well you only miss me when you're drunk," Zayn counters, raising an eyebrow. "Phone works both ways, y'know."

Harry rolls his eyes, not caring for the reminder of his weaker moments, dialling Zayn's number into the phone and leaving the kind of voicemails one should never, ever admit to. He pushes off the railing and turns to go back inside. "Enjoy your night."