We MaDe It

29.

Harry snatched his phone from the nightstand as it blared Party in the USA before it disturbed Zayn who was asleep, face buried on a pillow. Without checking the caller, he rejected the call and groaned laying back down, keeping hold of the phone in his hand.

It was his dirty weekend away with Zayn, the plan was; until absolutely necessary where one of the kids needs medical attention and no one else was available to take them to hospital; they aren't to be contacted.

Don't call us we'll call you. Harry had said as he waved goodbye.

Yazz stayed at home with Trisha who came to give her granddaughter company. Harry's stepdad and mom took the kids to the Lake District. It has been two days without them. Him and Zayn left the house on Friday night. So far so good, Anne texted him last night.

And last night was very good for them. It involved role playing with Harry in a policeman's outfit, handcuffs on his belt carrying a long heavy stick, aka, baton and Zayn as a bad boy with an ankle monitor. Needless to say they left their imprints on possibly every surface of the hotel room as they christened it.

He rolled onto his side and looked at Zayn. Thick black soft hair was covering his husband's beautiful face. He admired how Zayn's hair grew so quick not affected by harsh chemicals of hair dye it's owner uses every so often.

He gently brushed Zayn's hair back with his fingers wanting to see the beauty hidden by it. Zayn's long lashes fluttered momentarily as if he was waking up, but he sighed snuggling to the pillow firmly. Harry smiled running a finger lightly along Zayn's jaw.

Who knew bumping into the gorgeous boy in a coffee shop nearly two decades ago would lead where they were. A wonderful, not without hurdles, love story.

Harry would have spent the next hour admiring Zayn like a painting had his phone not rang again. Muting it quickly, he looked at caller ID. It was from a private number. He kissed Zayn's nose then climbed out of bed tiptoeing to the bathroom and closed the door.

"Hello?" He answered quietly.

"Mr Styles, good morning. It's Dr Spencer."

"Dr who? Spencer?" Harry frowned, he couldn't recall hearing that name.

"From Manchester Royal Infirmary. I'm the on call oncology registrar. Your consultant asked to follow up on blood tests and chest X-rays done on Friday then touch base with you make sure you're fit for chemo. I'm sorry to call you this early on a Sunday morning, but it is important. Have you got a minute to talk?"

Harry shivered feeling cold. He was only in his boxers. He grabbed a complimentary gown hanging on the door, put in on before perching his bum on the sink. "I've got a minute."

"I promise I won't take much of your time, Mr Styles. First question I have to ask, were you discharged on antibiotics? I believe there was a discussion on Friday whether you needed them or not?"

"I was discharged on antibiotics, yes." Harry nodded though the doctor couldn't see him.

"Have you taken them this morning?"

"It's quarter to eight Sunday morning I haven't even brush my teeth yet. Your call woke me up so no I haven't taken them."

"I am sorry for the disturbance, Mr Styles. I had to catch you before you took the antibiotics because we need you off them before your chemo tomorrow."

"What?" Harry frowned. "I thought that was a week from tomorrow. As in next Monday."

"No sir. Your chemo starts Monday. As in tomorrow. You are scheduled 11-1pm. Weren't you made aware?"