bitter || zarry stylik

fifty-four

I'm so super sorry that this one (and the past ten chapters pretty much) have taken a while, I've just had trouble with my motivation and I've had problems with self-care and shit and I've been feeling a lil sad a lot and I'm sorry for ranting ily

sweet and a lil bit sad songs:

> fool for you by zayn
> more than this by one direction
> autumn leaves by ed sheeran
> hold on till may by pierce the veil and lindsey stamey (emooooooooo yahhhhh)
> 1901 by phoenix
> get me out of here alive by aaron west and the roaring twenties
> skinny love (das kapital rerub) by bon iver
> nobody asked me (if I was okay) by sky ferreira
> teen idle by marina and the diamonds
> she keeps me warm by mary lambert
> who'd have known by lily allen (definitely a repeat, but this song is so sweet and applicable to this story)

-

"Zaynie, you alright in there? It's been a while," Harry calls through the thin door. He hears Zayn call in response over the sound of the shower, and sighs a little. They've only been here for an hour or so, but Harry feels totally drained.

He knows it sounds so so terrible, but being around all these sad, sad people is making Harry depressed.

Harry tidies up the already-neat room, and gnaws on his raw nail beds. When Zayn finally emerges from the steamy bathroom, he looks fresh-faced, and even a little chipper. He runs a hand through his wet hair, and smiles a little at Harry. "Hello, love. Mum has us scheduled to meet some other relatives, and then I was hoping you and I would cook dinner. You're a natural in the kitchen, and my mum could probably use the help. Sound okay?"

Harry forces a smile, and nods. "Yep. I'll be right down, I'm just going to freshen up a bit. Yeah? I'll be there in a few minutes."

Zayn tries not to look too concerned, but nods. "Of course, my love. Will you be safe?"

Harry tries - hard - to keep himself composed, and nods. "Yeah! Of course. I'm fine. Just need a minute. Now, go on. I'll be there before you know it."

Zayn nods quickly, and leaves the room without looking back at Harry. Harry sits on the corner of the made bed, and runs a hand through his hair. He needs to get a grip. This isn't about him. This is about Zaynie and his poor family.

Harry plasters on a smile - a big, bright one, like he used to when he was little - and brushes off his pants. Fake it till you make it, Harry thinks. He can do this. He needs to be here for Zayn now.

He splashes a little bit of warm water on his face, dries off, and heads down the stairs. What seems like Zayn's entire extended family is milling about the small living room, and Trisha has set up hors d'oeuvres in the kitchen. Harry spots Zayn amidst a cluster of elderly women, who are all cooing over how tall and strong Zayn is, and how much they loved Waliyha.

Zayn nods along to something one of the women is saying, and looks up to see Harry, who smiles encouragingly. "Ladies, this is my boyfriend Harry. Harry, these are my grandmothers Evelyn and June. And my great-aunt Wendy, and my godmother Denise."

Harry smiles at them sweetly, and shakes all of their frail hands. "Lovely to meet you all. I'm so, so sorry for your loss. I never met Waliyha, but I know Zayn thought the world of her."

Denise lets out a small squeal, and pinches Harry's cheek softly. "Aw, Zayn, you've done well with this one. He's so polite, and strong. I love his hair."

Harry blushes, and smiles a little. "Thank you, Denise. Again, lovely to meet you ladies. Do you mind if I steal Zayn for a minute or two?"

Zayn nods at the ladies, and links his arm into Harry's. "I'll talk to you later, my loves." Zayn winks, and all the women ooh and ah as Zayn and Harry move to the kitchen.

Harry helps himself to a Jim Beam Apple, and leans against the refrigerator. "How are you doing, Zaynie?"

Zayn takes a solid breath in, and shrugs. "I mean, I've been better, but I'm alright. It's nice to see everyone. I just wish we could be united by something other than death, you know?"