Satellite Stomper and Wild Sunflower [Zarry Stylik AU]©️

To begin again...

H,

I watched him go away from me. Walking with his head down, diverting from the crowd coming his way. I was not about to give up on us.

"Harry?" I turned and found Perrie looking at me with wide eyes. A young lady was at her side, looking at me with curiosity. "Oh, my God! Hi!"

"Hi."

"Oh..." Perrie frowned, touching my arm. "Are you okay?"

I must've looked horrible. "Yeah. Yeah. I'm fine. You?"

She smiled at me "Fantastic. This is...Erm...Sorry, love...What's your name again, love?"

The woman's smile faded a moment, but then she replied "Jade."

"Ah!" Perrie smiled at me again. "Jade."

"Good..." I exhaled for a moment. "Good."

Perrie came closer to me, looking deep into my eyes.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"I...I just saw...Zayn..." I admitted, with a clenched heart. "Let's just say it went as anyone would expect."

"Oh, muffin-"

"It's fine. It's fine. It was silly of me to think it could go any different." I responded with a trembling smile. "I'm going to leave you for your date."

"I can give you a ride if you want-"

"No, no...It'll be okay. Thank you."

I kissed her goodbye and waved at Jade. I stood to the side, watching them walk away hand in hand. I decided I had lost the first initial battle. I wasn't even sure what I wanted to do. Get back to him? Be alone and miserable?

I decided to walk home, cool off my emotions and let the cold help me figure things out.

I admit I fucked up first.

It was a drunken night, and I was at a party with some acquaintances of mine. Zayn and I weren't in the best of places. It was all blurry. I was drinking my frustrations away and before I knew it...Well, I had my lips on someone else. I was dragging the person - I don't even remember their name, it's that irrelevant - to the bathroom and I fucked them there and then. I wasn't thinking. I wasn't of sound mind and the moment it ended I felt disgusted. I threw up. I felt dirty and I knew I had fucked up.

I carried it with me for the longest time. I ran to him, making up again and we began where we left off. But I couldn't hide it from him. So, I told him.

I believe it was the first time I saw him cry. It was my birthday and he had given me the most beautiful gift: a sketch he had done of me. It was perfect. Done with such detail, dedication, and love. I felt like an imposter. 

It was my birthday and I made him cry.

He cried as I had never seen before. He didn't want to touch me. To look at me. And I fought hard to get him back. We ended for a while, but I never let him go. I kept going after him as I always did. I was on my knees, I kissed his hands, and I wouldn't let go of him.

In the end, he took me back. I apologized like the world was going to end.

And we were good for a while, but then he did it to me out of spite; to give me a taste of my own medicine.

Nonetheless, I was willing to give him another shot. I was willing to love him again and to move forward as a better version of ourselves. Talk it out. Break the stone between us. Yell. Destroy so we can begin again.

****

I walked back home, aimlessly. Not thinking. Not hoping to find anything. My mind travelled to our happy moments. Quiet times we'd spend in bed during lazy Sundays, naked, just loving one another. I remembered running my finger down his back, tracing the tattoo on his skin.