I Don't Want To Live Forever

5.

Zayn: Hey, we cannot find Harry, has something happened? Are you ok?

Taylor Swift: I am so sorry. No, I am not.

Zayn: Are you still in the studio?

Taylor Swift: Dressing room.

Zayn: 5 minutes

Zayn knocks on her dressing room door like a clock, but there is no answer. He opens the door silently and lets himself in.

"Taylor?", he asks, scanning the room. 

He hears the muffled sobs coming from the bathroom and knocks on its door. "Taylor?", she sniffs audibly and tells him to come in.

She is sitting on the floor, nestled between the shower and the toilet, holding her knees tightly against her chest, tears streaming down her face. He notices the finger-shaped bruises in her arm, and a sickening feeling creeps over him. What the fuck have you done now Harry?.

"What happened?, are you hurt?"  he asks, concerned, lowering himself to sit on the floor in front of her, scanning her body for additional signs, but he sees none. She lunges towards him to hug him then, seeking comfort in his arms, and he embraces her in return.

"I think I dumped him", she mumbles against his shoulder. And his eyes grow wide, "shit" he mumbles to himself.

She weeps, and all the while, he just holds her, shushing her when her sobs get louder until she calms enough to shift away from him. 

"Sorry, I must look dreadful," she sniffles, reaching out for the toilet roll and tearing a piece to blow her nose and dry her eyes. He smiles softly at her because, even like this, she actually looks adorable, and he curses Harry mentally for being such a jerk and making her feel this way.

"Actually, you don't", he tells her earnestly. And that earns him a soft chuckle from her.

His phone rings then, and he takes it off his pocket. "Sorry", he tells her.

"Did you find him?" Louis' voice shouts in his ear.

"No, mate"

"Ok, we are heading back to the hotel, he might be there. He's gonna get into shit trouble though. Boss is not impressed"

"Yeah, I will be on my way shortly, gonna check at a cafe he likes, first"

"Sweet, see you then. Bye" , "Bye".

"You think he is going to be fine?" she asks suddenly worried, "it's my fault", her eyes fill with tears again.

"No, no, no", he delicately grabs her wrists, to stop her from covering her face.

"Listen Taylor, none of it is your fault. None of it. Ok?", and he stares into her anguished blue eyes, and her tear-stained cheeks, and her pouty red lips.

Damn, he thinks, caught off guard by the unexpected wave of warmth.

"Zayn?", she whispers his name, and he swallows hard, moving his gaze to the toilet roll abandoned on the floor next to her.

He lets go of her wrists then. "Come, let's move to the sofa at least. Floor is freezing my ass", he jokes, trying to lighten the mood.

He hands her a glass of water. "Thank you".

"Are you sure you are going to be ok?", he asks for the third time, since they called him half an hour ago to urge him to get back to the hotel.

"Yes" she smiles faintly at him. "My mum should be here soon, her flight landed late but she is on her way now".

"Ok", he looks nervously between her and the door. She smiles. "I mean it. I will be fine", he turns to her then.

"You seem to have already lost a member, don't make it two at once", she teases him, and he smiles wide this time.

"Text me if you need anything, ok?", she nods at him.

They stare at each other, not knowing what comes next. Until she gets up from the sofa and circles his neck with her arms, hugging him close, resting her cheek on his shoulder, and he holds her back.

"Thank you", she tells him, breaking the embrace. And on an impulse he kisses her cheek, rushing through the door.