Snow (Zarry AU)

Part 14

Even if his eyes are drooping, he's adamant on finishing his sketch. Zayn is positioned on his belly, feet tucked under his pillow and pencils spread out across his bed. He likes to make a mess when he draws, enjoys the familiarity of the stains on his hands. It calms him down. So whenever he's stressed or worried about something, he draws. Tonight, he's drawing Harry. Although he can't quite get it right, maybe because he's not calm.

He's been on edge the past few hours, agitated and unfocused. The most frustrating part is that he's not even sure if it's necessary. It started out with a hunch, a tiny moment in which he thought 'what if?', and now it's blown out of proportion.

Soft knocking on his hotel room door takes him out of his momentary stupor, and he carefully swipes his pencils out of the way before dragging himself off his bed to answer it. When he does, he's surprised to find out it's his mother.

''Um, Don is taking a shower,'' he says, assuming she's here for his sister.

''Actually, I wanted to have a chat with my son.'' Zayn hesitates a moment before stepping back and allowing her in. He watches as she quietly sits on Doniya's bed, looking at him expectantly.

''Alright,'' Zayn sighs and crawls onto his own bed, facing his mother. ''So?''

''You were awfully quiet during dinner,'' she starts, and Zayn knows she's giving him an opening to say what he wants to say, but he can't.

What comes out instead is: ''I've always been quiet.''

She shakes her head. ''Not the past few days, you haven't. Is everything alright?''

''Yeah, 's fine,'' he says, if not a bit too quickly. His own voice doesn't sound right to him, and of course his mother sees right through him.

''Is it Harry?'' she asks softly, in that tone she always uses when she knows already, but still asks because she knows Zayn needs to say it himself.

''Think so,'' Zayn confesses, pulling his knees up to his chest. It feels like he's shrinking, like he's not big enough to hold the words in anymore. They'll start spilling out of him any second, now.

''Did something happen?'' That does it.

''No, but that's it. We never came to an understanding about things and I just realised that and now, like, I'm starting to think I imagined things? Or misinterpreted them or something, you know?'' Zayn feels lighter already now he was able to share some of the load with his mother. That's one thing he loves about his family. Even though they're private people, they're not afraid to share.

''The only thing you can really do is ask him, I'm afraid.''

Zayn sighs. ''Kind of wish I didn't have to. I'm not used to this.''

''I know, sunshine.''

Zayn looks up at his mother, sees the somewhat concerned look she's giving him, and suddenly feels like an ass. ''I should have told you sooner.''

''That, you should. But I understand, and so does Anne.''

''Oh, that's uh - good to know.'' Now he's blushing again, because apparently, no matter how hard he tries, it's impossible to keep secrets around here. Not that it was ever really a secret. He just wasn't ready to tell anyone, still isn't sure if he is, even if they know now. Or knew already.

''Just be careful, darling,'' his mother says, and opens her mouth as if she's going to say something else, but then closes it again. Zayn knows what she was going to ask, so he nods. He knows she doesn't want him to disappear, not like last time.

He can recall everything clearly.

It's easier like this; not admitting anything. Even if it requires him to stay inside and avoid the people that could ask questions, because questions need answers. Answers he doesn't want to give. That would make it too real.

The worst part is that it is real. It's real when he wakes up on his own, and when he sees the half-empty box of cereal in his cabinet, because it's the one Louis likes. Zayn is sure it must be stale by now.

Weeks have passed since he found out, but he hasn't told anyone. He knows people must be worried, especially his parents, since he hasn't returned any of their calls; he limited himself to texts. Zayn doesn't trust his voice, which is also why he hasn't visited them for weeks. Or Liam.

Zayn is currently sitting on the lonely chair in his tiny kitchen, staring down at the objects placed on the table. The key to Louis' house, and a few other of his ex's belongings. Zayn should bring them back, but he swore never to return there. He'll mail them instead. If he can let go of them.

The sound of the doorbell prompts him to move, slowly at first but then faster, because what if? When he opens his door and sees it's his mother, he's taken over by a rush of guilt and sadness. She looks cross and worried at the same time, the way only mothers can look at their sons who haven't really contacted them in weeks.

''Hi mum,'' he greets her and opens the door further as an invitation into his tiny living area.

She enters and looks him up and down, pursing her lips. ''You should come home so I can cook you a proper meal.''

''Yes, mum.'' They sit down on the small sofa placed against the wall, Zayn awkwardly fidgeting with the sleeve of his sweater.

''Darling, what's going on?'' she starts, taking his hand and squeezing it softly. ''We're worried about you. Liam, too.''

''He called?'' Zayn doesn't know what to do with that information.

''He did, unlike you.''

He looks at her expression carefully and sees the genuine fear, which hurts because he's the cause of that. This isn't what he wants. It's time.

''Louis and I broke up.'' That is the first time he said it out loud, and it's like his own words press down on his ears and are making his vision swim - then he realises he's crying.

''Oh sunshine, what happened?'' his mother asks, tightening her grip on his hand. Zayn looks at her through the blurriness and takes a deep breath before launching into his story. It takes him long enough, but she's ever so patient and coaches him through it. By the time he's finished, the tears stopped flowing.

''I'm sorry,'' he apologises, because he feels like he's been a bad son.

She shakes her head and stands up. ''Don't apologise. Come on.'' Zayn follows her order and gets up from the sofa. ''Stand tall, darling.''

''What are you-''

''Stand tall, and don't ever let a man walk over you like that again. Do not waste any more of your tears on him, and please call Liam. You'll need your best friend.''

Zayn takes a deep breath and squares his shoulders. ''I will. Thanks, mum.''

''No need to thank me,'' she says and engulfs him in a tight hug. ''Just know that I love you.''

As if there was ever a doubt.

Zayn knows he should be cautious, but he also doesn't want to be too cautious and forget to live. It's difficult to find a balance between the two.

''I'll get out of your hair, then. Get some rest,'' his mother orders and ruffles his hair on her way out. When the door closes, Zayn quickly tidies his bed and slips under the covers.

There are things he should consider, possible outcomes to questions he doesn't know yet. Backwards thinking, it is. What should he ask Harry to avoid making a fool of himself? When should he ask Harry? Zayn wants to know what they are and where they're headed, yet he's afraid to find out. So, for now, he'll postpone it. Enjoy what he can get, while he can get it.

If only he could stop worrying in the meantime.

Where would Zayn be without the women in his life.. Next chapter on Saturday!

See you then xxx <3

Dedication: @5SecondsOfLarryFeels