They say when the sun sets, sunflowers face each other. But what if there was no other sunflower to turn to? What if each sunflower had been plucked out, leaving one to its misery, lone and terrified, with no kind of its own, a cruel world in its wa...
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Breathlessness rained over Harry as he sliced his way through the suddenly crowded sidewalk and found himself in a quiet, rusty bookstore. He had faintly heard the echo of his name coming from Louis' mouth, remembered the look of horror in his wide eyes when Harry bolted away from him.
He could not stand it, that horrible sight of his alpha's arm twined with that omega, the fact that Louis did not bother telling Harry he was back. Was he ever really gone? Or was it just an excuse to stay away from Harry, cut all ties, abandon him like everyone else had. Harry heaved as warm tears rolled down his stiff cheeks, lips quivering pathetically as he poorly tried to supress his cries, dialling Zayn's number.
He found a corner, surrounded by books and a stool, a ladder leading to a compartment upstairs and no other form of life to be seen. The phone rang twice while Harry tried to breathe, blinking rapidly while his heart hammered. "Babes?" Came Zayn's voice, partially hushed yet somehow concerned already. Harry realised he was audibly sobbing now. "Harry, where the fuck are you?" There was urgency in his tone, something that tore out a cry from Harry.
"He's here, Zayn. He's here. I can't face him, please." His eyes frantically skimmed the place, afraid that Louis would find him. "Zayn, please, please, please get me. Please, Zayn. I'm so s-sorry. I am s-so f-fucking sorry, Zayn, but p-please get me."
"Fuck," he heard Zayn curse before a hurried shuffle was heard. "Harry, babes, can you breathe for me? Remember, count the numbers backwards? Ten, nine, eight. Breathe." Harry tried, he tried so hard, but his hammering heart and the tempest of emotions within him was a monster he was failing to fight back.
"C-can't." He barely whispered. "I a-am at the bookstore n-near Churchill St-treet. The really o-old one."
"I'm on my way, Harry. Breathe for me, please? For the pups, Harry. Breathe. Seven, six, five," Harry repeated after Zayn, pulling his knees to his chest as he rocked back and forth. Four, three, two, he counted mentally, shakily taking the first breath. "Now, count again, love. Ten, nine," Zayn's voice faded like dust meeting a blow of air as Harry mumbled the numbers, breathing slowly, in through the nose, out through the mouth; a prayer, a chant, a struggle. In through the nose, out through the mouth. "I'm almost there, Harry. Hold on for a mo'. I'm almost there."
"I'm so scared." He whimpered, unsure if Zayn even heard him. He buried his face in his palms, the phone lying on the floor next to him. It was on speaker, a combination of curses and car horns coming through. Somehow, knowing there was a part of Louis growing inside him burned his heart when he saw him with her, it did not help Harry in anyway, only pushed him more to believe how worthless he was in Louis' eyes, that Harry did not even deserve a minute of his day.
"Thank fuck," Zayn's scent made him look up, his eyes met with a perturbed Zayn crouched down, his hands gently touching Harry. "C'mon, I'll take you home." He said, pulling Harry up by the armpits. Harry clung to Zayn in an attempt to hide, something his omega did when distressed. Zayn held him closely, and though he was shorter than Harry, Harry felt every bit protected. "I'm just buying you something to drink, alright? Sit here, please."
