bitter || zarry stylik

forty-five

an abundance of melancholy (and only slightly miserable) songs (most of these are repeats but they matter for this chapter so lend them your ear pls ((only if you'd like))):

> fool's gold by one direction
> sunburn by ed sheeran
> biting down by lorde
> pretty when you cry by lana del rey
> we are broken by paramore
> half a heart by one direction
> all too well by taylor swift
> build you up by kim taylor
> here with me by susie suh
> hey angel by one direction
> ribs by lorde
> good enough by little mix
> I swear this time I mean it by mayday parade
> want u back by boyce avenue and hannah trigwell
> u.n.i by ed sheeran
> otherside (feat. fences) by macklemore and ryan lewis
> sad dream by sky ferreira
> divorce and the American south by aaron west and the roaring twenties
> like a fool by keira knightley
> I know girls (body love) by mary lambert
> somewhere only we know by lily allen
> from afar by vance joy
> these four words by the maine
> free fallin' by john mayer (originally by tom petty)
> fourfive seconds by one direction
> if you say so by lea michele
> can't help falling in love by elvis (or the twenty one pilots version bc both are out of this world)

stay safe pls (ily my baby babes)

xx

-

Harry feels his heart drop down to the pit of his stomach, and he gasps a little. "O-oh my god, Zayn, I'm so sorry. When?"

"This morning. Mum woke her up to get ready for school, and she was taking longer than usual, so mum went to check on her and she was-" Zayn cuts himself off with a sob, and clings to Harry tightly. "Harry, why didn't she come talk to me?! I could have helped her! I should have seen the signs-"

Harry shakes his head firmly, and squeezes Zayn to quiet him. "Shh, baby. No. This is in no way your fault. She probably didn't tell you because she didn't want you to stop her. I'm sure she just was trying to make it easier, and not talk to you as much, so it wouldn't hurt. I know that sounds terrible, but-"

Zayn pulls away, and this time, his face is totally blank. "It's fine." He brushes off the legs of his trousers, and sits up with a sigh. "I need a drink."

A big part of Harry thinks that isn't such a good idea, but he'll let it slide this time. He helps Zayn up, and leads his droopy body into the kitchen. Harry fetches his softest duvet from his room, and wraps it around Zayn, who's sitting slumped at the breakfast bar. He mumbles a thanks, but seems too wrapped up in grieving to even really register what's happening. "My love, what would you like? I'm pretty good at mixing drinks."

Zayn shrugs noncommittally, and can't seem to shake the miserable look on his face. "I can't bring myself to care. Something strong. Whisky, if you have it."

Harry nods solemnly, and pours Zayn a small glass of Lagavulin. Zayn stares blankly at the nearly empty glass, and motions for Harry to keep pouring. "Come on, Harry. More! I'm not a child, I can hold my own."

Harry frowns, but continues to pour until the glass is about half full. "Zayn, I'm so sorry. If you want to talk about it, even if it's just for a minute, I'm here. I'm completely and totally here for you."

Zayn smiles half-heartedly, and nods. "Thanks, babe. Maybe later." He takes a long swig from his glass, and his face twists up as the whisky burns his throat.

Harry frowns, and pours himself a tall glass of light rosé. "After you finish your drink, do you want me to pamper you like the prince you are? I'll go all out. I'll give you a bath with that pretty bath bomb I got the other day, and I'll light candles and we'll wrap you in blankets and watch shit telly and we can order takeaway and-"

Zayn laughs in spite of the situation. It lasts for about two seconds, but it sounds genuine. "Okay. That sounds like a nice distraction."

Harry smiles, and brushes some hair away from Zayn's eyes. "You ready to be the king of this flat? You're going to feel so pampered. I love you." Harry kisses the top of Zayn's head, and wipes away the sheen of sad-sweat. "My beautiful baby."

Zayn half-smiles. "Alright, pamper me." He holds out his arms floppily, and claws the air for Harry.

Harry smiles fondly, and picks up the cloying Zayn, wrapping his arms around him tightly as he secures him. Harry hums a little song, and carries Zayn to the bathroom, where he sets him down on the soft rug and kisses his forehead again. He begins running the water, and quickly caps the whisky and puts it back in the liquor cabinet. When he gets back into the bathroom, he finds Zayn sprawled out on the floor, his legs tangled in the duvet. Harry crouches down beside him, and strokes his cheek gently. "My love, just wait a couple more minutes, then the water will be ready for you. Yeah?"

Zayn nods pitifully, and hardly puts any effort into helping Harry help him sit up. He leans back against the tiled wall, and lets out a groan. "Can I watch the bath bomb fizz? I've never seen one."

Harry smiles sadly, and nods, rifling through the cabinet, before finding the purple and blue bath bomb in a little bag. "You ready, Zaynie? It's going to be everything you've ever hoped it would be."

Zayn nods. When Harry drops the bomb into the warm water, Zayn lets out a quiet "ooh" and leans his head on Harry's shoulder while he watches it react.

As Harry lights some candles, Zayn's smile fades, and he whispers something incoherent. Harry stops, and turns around to face Zayn. "What did you say, my love?"

Zayn stares blankly at the diminished fizz in the bath water, and clears his throat before speaking again. "Harry, now I know how you feel. I want to die."