Zayn Malik, I. [zustin mieber]

Chapter 14

[NIALL FUCKING HORAN WAS FUCKING LISTENING TO CODY FUCKING SIMPSON I NEED A MOMENT]

The clock hits twelve and Zayn is on the phone. I feel a little angry. Why is he on the phone at midnight on New Years? I want to tell him to put the phone away to kiss me but then I see his face.

Zayn is crying.

It's New Years, and Zayn is crying. He runs into my arms, his sobs becoming louder and louder. He holds me tightly and doesn't let go for a good four minutes.

"What's wrong?" I ask.

"H-he killed himself," Zayn cries. I look at him in shock.

"Who? I ask. All I can think is it was Niall. His name in clouding my head and for a moment I feel myself tearing up too. "Zayn who?"

"H-Harry. Harry from the support group." And okay, that's not as bad as I thought. If it was Niall I would have flipped.

"Boo don't cry. Shhh. It's okay," I whisper.

"N-no i-it's not. He told... told me that he was o-okay. He told m-me he was getting better." I swear. A stream of "fucks" falling from my mouth. Of course Zayn was in contact with more than just Liam. Of course he grew attached. I feel Zayn's legs give out and pick him up I carry him up to our bed and lay him down. 

Zayn has gone limp. He's watching the ceiling, but I don't know if he can actually see it. I ask him is he wants me to change his clothes, and somewhere in his daze he nods. I take Zayn's shirt off first and dig through his dresser for a sweater. After struggling for a while I get it on him. Zayn don't move to help me, and I wonder what he's thinking. I change him into sweatpants and see try to ignore the cuts on his thighs. 

I know they're new by the sound Zayn makes when I accidentally touch them. He grabs my hand once his pants are on and pulls me towards him. Zayn's grip is weak. I lay next to him and Zayn runs his fingers through my hair. 

"I'm sorry, Zayn," I whisper. 

"His daughter... I don't know what's going to happen w-with her now," Zayn whispers. He tightens his grip in my hair, and it hurts, but I let him do it because Zayn isn't himself right now. I listen, and I can hear his breathing. I want everything to be okay. 

I want Zayn to be okay. 

___

The next day Niall comes over. He goes up to Zayn and hugs him. I stand off to the side and watch them. I watch Niall and Zayn talk for a while before heading into the kitchen to make Zayn some tea and Niall a coffee. I can hear Zayn mumbling under his breath but I can't make out the words as I bring their drinks to them. Niall thanks me, but Zayn stays silent. He hasn't been okay since hearing the news on Harry. I don't think Zayn knows where he is. 

I watch him take a sip of his tea. Zayn's hands are shaking slightly. Niall looks at me and shakes his head sadly. I can tell by the way his face falls that he doesn't know how to help Zayn. I feel my stomach turning. Because I don't either. 

I have suggested therapy, but Zayn says he's fine with Liam's help. 

"Do you want to paint?" Zayn asks. He looks up timidly but quickly looks down. 

"Of course," Niall says. So together we help Zayn upstairs and to his art room. Zayn uses his depression colors in his painting. Niall doesn't seem to notice, that or he doesn't know that Zayn has certain colors to tell me how he really fells inside. I watch Zayn as he paints a picture of Harry. When he's done he takes black paint and covers the whole canvas. He looks at me before punching the canvas. 

"Zayn," I gasp. He turns to me. 

"I feel empty," He says. "Justin I don't like this." 

Behind Zayn I met eyes with Niall. 

I didn't know what to do.