Vivacious [H.S]

Thirty Three

Harry stared at the phone in his hands, unable to believe the words he had just said towards Zayn. Zayn who had always been there for him, who had always done everything in his power to make sure he was ok and happy. The same Zayn who had sacrificed so much for him and Harry just gone and insulted him, using his past, his dreadful past, against him. 

"Fuck!" Harry yelled, slamming his car door closed, putting his head in his hands as his mind raced with so many different thoughts. Aurelie didn't want him and now he had fucked it up with Zayn and to be completely honest it was starting to get difficult to feel sympathy for him.  He leaned back against his car, he didn't know where he was, and he wasn't all that eager to go home so he sat there, in the middle of nowhere alone with his thoughts and guilt, if he even had the capability to feel guilty. He needed a drink, his fists ached for violence, anything that could take his mind off things and then, to his uttermost convenience, he heard the echo of footsteps and he got up, lighting a cigarette as he watched a man walk down the street. He was staggering, soft sniffles and whimpers to be heard from him but Harry was to selfishly obsessed with his own plight to care of that of another. He threw his cigarette aside, grinning evilly as he slowly walked behind the man, suddenly grabbing his arm turning the man around and slamming him against his car.

"I'm going to kill you." Harry whispered, slowly, hauntingly, bringing a gun up the man's body. He waited for the pleas of mercy, the cries of fear, the screams, the begging, his body practically shook with excitement, a pleasure to be gained from another man's pain, one that he could use to mask his own suffering. 

"Do it." The man whispered, a frailty in his voice that made Harry instantly freeze, a frown settling on his face as he looked at him in confusion. 

"Did you not hear what I fucking said? I'm going to end your life." He emphasised but astonishingly the man leaned forward pressed his forehead against the barrel of the gun. 

"Do it." He whispered, a tear running down his cheek. Harry was in shock, he stood there for minutes, unsure of what to do before he reluctantly dropped his hand, completely bewildered. 

"Are you alright man?" The words escaped his lips before he could stop them and the man looked at him as if no one had ever asked him that before. He shook his head, suddenly slumping forward, forcing Harry to catch him and help him sit on the ground. 

"N-no." He croaked out and then he was crying, sobbing his eyes out and Harry stood there uncomfortably scratching his head before sitting down next to him, looking down at the ground, playing with his gun as he waited for the stranger to stop crying. "I'm sorry." He finally whispered, his sobs now reduced to hiccups and deep inhalations due to the excessiveness of his tears.

"Are you alright mate?" Harry asked, staring at him wearily, all former thoughts of violence having disappeared. 

"No, no I'm not." He said, pulling his legs closer to his chest as if that would allow him to vanish from existence. "I lost my wife and two daughters five months ago, they were five. We had taken the boat out for the weekend, there was a storm but the emergency raft could only take the weight of the three of them. I forced them to leave without me, thinking I had saved them. I was prepared to die, to die for them, my girls." The man's voice grew heavy and Harry decided he could do nothing but listen. 

"I woke up in a hospital, apparently I had washed up on a beach, the debris of the boat with me. I asked around for my wife and children, no one had seen or heard of them. I remained optimistic, perhaps they had been rescued by  a foreign ship or had found themselves on foreign land. My wife's brother was a politician so he managed to rally the coast guard, search teams, the police, hell even the military. It was all hands on deck and they found them." The stranger took a deep breath before continuing. "Their raft had caught on a rock and the plastic ruptured, they drowned and I survived. If I hadn't sent them away, if I hadn't forced them to leave they would still be alive. They were all I had, my everything. " The man cried into his hands and Harry felt an unfamiliar feeling in his stomach. 

"Hey, you did what any rational person would have done at the time. Besides, how do you know that keeping them with you wouldn't have killed them as well?" Harry winced at his words, at the fact that he was wrapping his arms around the man trying to comfort him. 

"No, no you're wrong." The man shouted, pushing Harry off of him before standing up. "I need them. I can't go on without them, I can't do this anymore. I'm alone, so alone." The man was frantic, reaching for Harry. "You said you'd kill me, do it!" He begged, struggling with Harry for the gun. 

"I'm not going to fucking kill you mate!" Harry exclaimed, using the last of strength to push him off of him. A desperate man was a strong man. The two stared at each other, breaths heavy. The man slumped his shoulders and Harry thought he had given up when suddenly, taking Harry by surprise, he grabbed his gun, shooting himself in the temple before Harry could stop him. Blood splattered on Harry's face as he watched, frozen in shock. The man fell to the floor and for minutes Harry didn't move, taken by horror and trauma. 

Darkness surrounded him, rain poured down, washing away the blood and only when he began to feel the chill through his wet clothes did he realize it was time go. He bent down and searched the man's pocket for his wallet, retrieving his ID-card. 

"Francis Chester." Harry mumbled solemnly, wanting a name for the stranger. "I'm sorry Francis." He said before putting back the wallet, closing the man's eyes before getting back into his and car driving...home. 

His youth might have been a nightmare, he might have spent a large part of his life suffering but at least he had people who still asked if he was alright, he had people who still cared despite his arrogance and the fucked up nature of his mind. He realized just how how lucky he was to have Zayn by his side, to have had Zayn with him through his darkest days, he was never alone. He couldn't live without Zayn and he couldn't imagine life without Aurelie. Harry realized he needed Aurelie in his life even if it was just as a friend, he needed her.

Harry returned home in the dead of night and as if to remind him just how much Zayn cared for him, Zayn was sat at the kitchen island, still awake, head in his hands as he waited for Harry to return home, just to know that he was ok even if he was beyond angry with him. He looked up upon hearing Harry enter the room and he frowned, scanning his body for injuries stopping at his bloodied shirt.

"It's not mine." Harry whispered with a broken voice. With that Zayn got up, heading to his room, mind at ease knowing Harry was ok but still hurt and angry with him. "Zayn wait." Harry called, running after him. Zayn stopped midway up the stairs, he hadn't turned to face him but Harry knew he was listening.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry for what I said to you. I'm sorry for the way I've treated you the past few days, hell these past few fucking years. I'm sorry for my selfishness, I'm sorry for my messed up mind. I'm broken Z and I need you. I need you so fucking badly." Harry broke down into sobs and all the anger Zayn had disappeared as quickly it came because all that mattered was Harry needed him.

And so he would be there.

A/N: I'm back! I hope you liked this chapter, finally a bit of soft harry and a part of me lowkey wants to make this a Zarry romance. Don't worry I won't, too much of this story is invested in Harry's feelings for Aurelie so that's not going to change. Anyway, don't forget to vote and comment!