Lipstick [Narry-EDITING]

~36~

When Harry slowly started waking up, he felt different. And no, it wasn't the hammering feeling against his skull that made him feel different. Or his dry throat and weak body. It wasn't any of those things. 

Harry rubbed his eyes and yawned. He sat up, pushing the blankets off him and squinted against the light that came easily from the large window in the small room. He swung his legs over towards the edge of the bed and stretched his tired body. 

There was a knock at the door before it slowly creaked opened. 

It was a moment before the door opened completely and somebody stepped into the room. 

"How are you feeling?" Zayn asked. 

"Like an idiot," Harry mumbled, still half-asleep. All of his hair started falling forward when he began to sulk back down to the bed. 

"I don't want to be that person but Harry, you obviously know how you get when you're drunk, especially with a broken heart. So. . . why do it?" Zayn asked while taking a seat next to Harry. 

Harry shrugs. "Because I'm scared that if I don't fog up my mind, I won't be able to block out the pain and I'll end up hurting myself somehow."

"That's the downside of having a big heart. You feel everything at an extreme," Zayn sighed. He stood up from the bed and walked in front of Harry. Zayn crouched down in front of Harry and lifted the man's chin up. Zayn's eyes came in contact with Harry's shining green eyes. He liked Harry's eyes. Everybody did. They were vibrant. 

A vibrant green. 

It reminded people of nature. . . of life. 

"I'll go get you something for that headache," Zayn said. "Just. . . relax, okay?"

Harry nodded and watched his old friend go. He's known Zayn for quite a long time. They met during college but had to split afterwards due to differences in careers and life options. Liam apparently knew Zayn from high school too, a pretty awesome coincidence. 

Zayn lived outside in the suburbs of New York. 

He was the first person who came to mind when Harry thought of getting away for a while. He didn't think he could handle being in New York where Niall knew of all the places where he could find Harry. Harry just needed some space. He was too angry to inform for Niall about this though. 

Although, after a while of driving, that anger soon became for himself. Harry started getting angry at himself for letting all of this happen. All of this. . . wrongness. He had to stop the car and park away from the road when his vision became too blurry from his tears. 

But that was just a few days ago. 

Harry doesn't feel better, but he doesn't feel worse either. There is an emptiness bugging at him and too many thoughts crowded in his mind. 

"Here," Zayn came back with a glass of water and some pills. Harry took the pills and drank the water. He was aware of Zayn watching him. It was okay. Zayn was an observant person. He reads people through their actions and expressions. 

"By the way, a few minutes ago when you were still knocked out, I sent Liam a picture," Zayn grinned. He went to sit on the floor and Harry soon joined him with a surprised expression. 

"No way. Let me see," Harry gasped. He watched Zayn take out his phone and unlock it before tapping into his messages and letting Harry see the message. 

It was in fact a picture of him with a little bit of Zayn's face. He definitely looked knocked out after a night of too many beers. Harry stared at the picture of himself for a few more seconds before reading the message that went along with it.