Fat Boy // styles [Disorder prequel]

twelve

"We wanted wings to fly, but we never got them. We wanted everything but what we had, and that's quite sad, really."

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March 25, 2009 -- 00.56 to 01.29

The wind was loud in my ears as I ran. I ran as quickly as my feet would take me, which still wasn't fast enough. A piece of paper was getting crumpled in my hand, the wind blowing it one way while I ran the other. I could care less about the damage done to the note - I only cared about the possible damage that could be done to my friend.

"Shit, shit, shit," I mumbled over and over again, turning corners.

"You stupid, fucking boy," I yelled out into the street.

How had I not seen the signs? How had it gone by so long without noticing. I'm his best friend.

"Goddamn it, Harry." I muttered the words, curse after curse falling from my lips.

Why hadn't I seen it? Why couldn't I see it?

The bridge was in view now. It wasn't too big, but it definitely wasn't small either. If he didn't die from the impact of the fall, he would definitely die without putting up a fight as he went deeper into the water. The tears began to spring to my eyes as I realized that if he went into the water, I wouldn't be able to help him.

"Harry!" I shouted. I ran down one side of the bridge, screaming for him in case he hadn't jumped. My fears were that he had jumped and I was wasting time looking for him where he would never be found. I crossed quickly to the other side, yelling for him again.

"Zayn?" I finally stopped, a voice coming from beside me. Turning to look at him, I felt the relief and anger surging through my body all at once, but I didn't dare let it show.

I sighed, staring at the younger lad tucked away in a corner. Falling to my knees, I grabbed his arm and pulled him close.

"You're such a fucking idiot, Harry." I felt his shoulders shake as heartbreaking sobs escaped his lips. The urge to yell at him and tell him how he didn't think of me at all in this situation was overwhelming. But looking at him now, I understood why I never came into the picture. He looked like a mess. It made me feel worse, seeing him this way. All the fights I got in and all the encouraging words I spoke had little to no effect. And knowing that I couldn't help him broke me. "Why didn't you just talk to me instead of trying to do this? I would've talked to you, Harry. You know I would have tried to help you."

He didn't reply.

"Please tell me you know that," I pleaded.

"I couldn't do it, though." He whispered, "I'm such a failure, I couldn't even make myself disappear."

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so if you didn't already figure it out - Zayn's POV right there.

don't hurt yourself. please please please.

- hannah