Keep the Car Running (Zarry AU)

Chapter 20

He resorts to hiding in the toilet. He’s wearing a £2,000 Lanvin suit and he’s hiding in the toilet, because this is what he does now, it seems, make one breathtakingly bad decision after another. Harry has no one to blame but himself, of course, because if he had even the slightest bit of self-control, he’d be eating steak at Claridge’s with Peter and listening to him complain about his house in Umbria. Actually, he wouldn’t, because there is a God, apparently, and thanks to a signalling fault outside Tamworth, Peter’s stuck in Manchester. But that’s not the point, if Harry wasn’t there, listening to other men pee, he would be enjoying a rare night off. He could have ordered a pizza, ate in bed with one of the eighty-seven books he’s been too busy to read, but instead he’s in a toilet, hiding from Zayn. He’ll be eating pizza through a fucking straw if Charlotte finds out.

How long does it take forty-thousand people to go home? Not twenty minutes. Or twenty-four. Or twenty-seven. Maybe it’s thirty-three, he thinks as he checks again. To his relief, the corridor is deserted and when he steps out to look out the window at the gates, the mass of blue has thinned enough that he decides to make a break for it.

‘Take the north stairs,’ the bouncer standing outside the Exec box says when he sees Harry approaching. ‘They’ll be empty now.’

He nods towards the other end of the corridor and Harry thanks him with a smile before turning and striding away. When he finally makes it through the door into the stairwell, Harry goes weak with relief when he realises that the bouncer’s right – it’s empty – and thanks every God he can think of for getting him out of there before Zayn sees him as he runs down the stairs like a kid running out of a newsagent with a pocketful of sweets. He’s halfway down them when he feels his phone ringing in his pocket and when he takes it out to see that it’s Zayn, he almost drops it.

‘What the fuck are you doing here?’ Zayn says before he can even say hello.

Harry stops so suddenly that he almost tumbles down the stairs. ‘Where?’

‘You know where,’ he hisses.

Harry is about to plead ignorance when he hears the door to the stairwell swing open. His instinct is to keep running for the exit, but he looks up the stairs as Zayn looks down them and when Zayn shakes his head at him, Harry can’t move.

‘Come here,’ Zayn tells him.

‘I’m sorry,’ Harry says, the tremor in his voice even louder in the empty stairwell.

‘Don’t make me repeat myself,’ Zayn says through his teeth, pointing to his feet. And he’s back to the Zayn Harry knows, cool and calm in an immaculate grey suit. So Harry does as he’s told this time, his knees weak as he walks up the stairs towards him. When he stops in front of him, Zayn looks up the next flight then takes Harry by the sleeve of his black suit jacket and tugs him up them.

‘I’m sorry,’ Harry says again, but Zayn tells him to shut up as he opens the door and checks the corridor before walking back towards him.

‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come.’ Harry tries again, holding his hands up as Zayn glares at him, his heart hysterical as Zayn takes a closer.

‘Damn right you shouldn’t have come. We’re through to the next round of the Champions League and all I can think about is who you’re with.’

‘No one.’ Harry shakes his head, but Zayn doesn’t believe him.

‘Of all the places,’ he hisses, fucking furious. ‘How could you bring him here?’

‘I’m not with anyone, I swear.’

‘Are you here to meet Chris?’

‘Of course not.’ Harry hasn’t even thought about him since that night in the club. He forgot they even played for the same club.