Do you understand my love?
Please, don't look at me and shrug
I've been trying more than ever
If this doesn't last forever
Least we spent the time we did
Helped each other through our shit
Yeah-yeah, yeah-yeah-"NIGHTTIME," Russ
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::Harry's text probably should have disturbed Zayn more than it did but he was too busy being excited to see Harry again. He'd sent his address and Harry would be there any minute.
Zayn put out his unfinished blunt, spraying the room with some air freshener, knowing how Harry isn't fond of the marijuana scent. He'd never cared about Z smoking it and had smoked with him a couple times.
Unfortunately, there'd been one instant that changed Harrys interest in the drug. Harry had experienced a very bad reaction to a strain of marijuana that contained a higher level of THC. Bad was an understatement. In fact, Zayn himself didn't want Harry to try smoking again if there was even a slight change of repeating that night of Harrys bad experience.
Harry had about seven separate panic attacks that night in Zayn's hotel room back in 2014. Each one was worse than the last and when Harry came out of each one, thanks to Zayn's soothing, he would look less and less like himself. To put it plainly, Harry had a full on mental break that night. He said some things Zayn doesn't even want to remember or think of because of how scary it was.
**Flashback to April 2014**
"Haz! Harreh, please baby look at me!" Zayn shouted desperately in front of a panicking Harry.
Harry was having his 5th attack of the night and had been rubbing his arms repeatedly all night to the point where they were now red. His breathing was fast as he began rocking back and forth on the ground with his knees pulled up, saying the same sentence over and over.
"I can't find peace.."Zayn grabbed his phone, opening his clock app for the 5th time that evening. He put his finger on the side of Harry's throat, finding the pulse to check his heart rate.
"Fuck." Zayn muttered.
It had been between 110 and 120 beats per minute for 2 hours now. That would only be normal had Harry just ran a mile. He felt helpless. Nothing he did worked anymore. He'd managed to help Haz the first 3 attacks fairly quickly but every time he thought Harry had settled down he would jump up and pace the room, repeating the cycle.
At first, Harry had been saying things about peace and 'what is peace,' just stoner ramblings. Zayn hadn't been too concerned. Marijuana can make people paranoid at times it was normal, but the first time Harry had said, "I can't find peace," with one of the most distraught and heartbreaking looks upon his face, Zayn began to worry. He couldn't show it to Harry though and had to act as if it was all normal and everything was okay.
The phrase, "I can't find peace," seemed to be his go to. Unfortunately it wasn't even the worst he'd said. Harry had talked about nothing being real, saying death isn't even real or scary. Zayn had tried desperately to get him off that topic because it was terrifying for Zayn to hear and see Harry so unlike himself. To make matters worse Harry was losing his touch on reality as the hours ticked by. First it was small like not knowing what was going on during the friends episode he'd watched a bajillion times. Then, Harry seemed to not be sure of where they were which, to be fair, the boys were always traveling so it wasn't anything Zayn stressed over. However, when Harry began questioning Zayn, he became overcome with worry for his lovers sanity.
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Behind Closed Doors
FanfictionZarry fan fiction. Zayn felt he and Harry had cursed one another long ago, with no anecdote known to man. They'd go into their graves with the curse. Despite this knowledge, he came to terms with this idea long ago, knowing he would never be alone...