Behind Closed Doors

6. WMYB

Come a little closer, then you'll see
Come on, come on, come on
Things aren't always what they seem to be
Come on, come on, come on
Do you understand the things you been seein'
Come on, come on, come on
Do you understand the things that you've been dreaming
-"Come a Little Closer," by Cage the Elephant

***

Zayn sat with Harrys number the entire rest of the day. He wanted to contact him right away but it was the middle of the day and Sarah was up Zayn's ass about promotion for his album. He had an interview with a radio that afternoon so he chose to focus on that instead.

Once he was finally back in his Los Angeles home, Zayn couldn't wait any longer. After getting off the phone with Gigi for what seemed like the longest call of his life, Zayn decided to text Harry. He was too much of a coward to call him, knowing it'd require him to keep his composure and think on the spot. With texts, Zayn had time to think through his words and how they sounded, no risk of giving anything away through his voices inflections.

It was 10pm but he felt like it was good a time as any, knowing Harry was probably just as busy as Zayn during the daytime. Not to mention the fact that Harry could be literally anywhere in the world.

He texted Harry:

Zayn: Hey, it's Zayn. How are you?

After about 5 minutes passed he began to panic. What if Nick had given him a random number as a joke? Sure, he considered Nick to be a cool dude, even a friend at one point. Yet, he was always Harrys friend first. Zayn became closer to Nick through Harry. If Harry held resentment or malice towards Zayn, Nick surely wouldn't have a problem messing with him.

Zayn: this is Harry Styles, right?

Shit. 10 minutes later and still no reply. Zayn decided to put his phone down and try to distract himself as the minutes ticked on by. He turned on the tv to Freeform. They were having a Harry Potter marathon and the fourth movie was on, Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. Zayn's favorite one. The tv eased his mind in the slightest. Then at 11pm he heard his phone ding.

Harry: hey Zayn. Ya it's Harry. Good to hear from you.
and doin good, you?

Despite cringing at their formality with one another, Zayn's heart felt light as a feather knowing he was once again texting Harry Styles.

Zayn: I'm doin alright. Busy as ever.

Harry: I bet. I'm the same though surely no where near as busy as you. I know you have your first solo album release coming up, right?

Zayn: Ya, it's a lot. Pretty stressful.
But that's not why I contacted you.

Harry: I assumed as much. What's up?

Zayn: Could we find a time and place to meet up? I'd love to catch up with you sometime, Harry. If that's something you're interested in.

Harry: I would like that. Let me look at my schedule and I'll get back to you in a bit.

Zayn: course. Let me know whenever, no rush.

He was elated. It's like having your favorite meal taken from you for an entire year. You're not allowed to smell it, look at it, even thinking about it isn't recommended. But then you just get one taste, a lick, and your senses are set ablaze. It doesn't even matter if it is taken in proportion, it's that feeling that is to die for.
Zayn felt like his most prized possession had been stolen and he'd just been told it was found, a year later. It was such an intense but gratifying feeling, despite the nature of it or the fact that they were talking like adults who were scheduling a work meeting. Zayn didn't care. Nothing could shake this feeling.