Out in the Cold (Zianourry) ON HOLD

Two

The next few days pass by with Harry doing his usual routine, managing to get enough for him to eat decently well. Just as he thought, he hasn't seen any of the four boys again. Oh well, Harry thinks, they've most likely forgotten about me by now. 

He lets out a sigh, making his way down the street, careful not to bump into any of the rushing people, Liam's coat still wrapped around his shoulders. A blast of air rushes against him, making him shiver violently, looking around for a nearby place to step into for a bit. The first shop he sees, is a coffee shop. He heads towards it, debating on whether to buy a coffee to help warm him up some. 

He pauses right outside the door and digs in his pockets, pulling out four crumpled up dollar bills. Harry hesitates a moment, before mumbling 'fuck it' under his breath and walking inside. As he makes his way to the register, he glances around the coffee shop, noticing it's rather empty right now. Most likely because nobody wants to be out in this cold. 

"Hello, how can I help- Harry?" 

Harry's head jerks back forward, his eyes going wide when he sees who's on the other side of the counter. "Zayn?" 

Zayn's eyes light up momentarily, but then his expression changes, eyes now narrowing towards Harry. "You never called or texted any of us. We were worried about you, but you didn't give us your number so we had no way to contact you." 

"Uh, never mind, I changed my mind. I don't want coffee." Harry mumbles, turning on his heel and heading out of the coffee shop. 

"Wait!" He hears Zayn scream behind him. That only fuels him to move faster, practically running out of the coffee shop. "I'm taking my break now, Veronica!" 

Harry pushes the door open, putting him out in the cold again, letting it swing shut behind him. Less than a second later, he hears it open and shut again. He runs now, but he's too late. A hand clamps on his wrist, and just as he previously did, Harry tenses up. 

"Let go of me, Zayn." He grits out without looking at the boy behind him. 

Harry hears Zayn sigh, but he doesn't relent his grip on Harry's wrist. It's not harsh or rough, but it is firm enough that Harry can't yank away. He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to keep the memories away. Zayn speaks up softly, bringing Harry back to the present. "Please come back to the coffee shop and talk with me for a little while." 

"Let go of me." Harry repeats. 

"I'll let go of your wrist if you come back to the coffee shop with me." Zayn bargains. 

"And if I choose not to agree to this deal?" Harry questions, turning around to face him. 

Zayn grins cheekily. "Then I'll drag you back by the hand I'm holding." 

Harry rolls his eyes, but finds that for some reason he isn't as annoyed as he should be. "Fine." He sighs, dragging out the 'e'. Zayn's grin grows, but he does as he said he would, dropping his hand from Harry's wrist. Instead he wraps his arm around Harry's shoulder, bringing him in against his side and beginning to walk. 

Harry groans, letting his head falling back slightly. "You were supposed to let go of me." 

"I did." Zayn shrugs. Harry looks pointedly towards the arm thrown on his shoulder so Zayn clarifies. "I simply said I'd let go of your wrist if you came back with me, which I did." 

Harry sighs, but doesn't argue, knowing there's no use. The two of them walk back in the shop, Zayn opening the door for Harry like a gentleman (Harry definitely doesn't blush. Nope.) Then Zayn leads them to a booth, dropping his arm from Harry's shoulder as Harry slides in. Instead of sliding in on the other side like Harry expects, Zayn slides in right beside him. At Harry's raised eyebrows, Zayn explains. "So you can't just run off while we're talking." 

"Oh." 

"Yeah." Zayn replies. It's quiet for a beat, not awkward but not entirely comfortable either. Then Zayn decides to just jump right into it, turning in his place to face Harry, staring him straight in the eyes. "So why didn't you call or text any of us like you said you would?" 

Harry shrugs his shoulders, looking down towards his lap. He absentmindedly begins fiddling with the sleeves on his (Liam's) coat, a habit he's formed over the last few days. That seems to draw Zayn's attention to it, as he comments. "You're wearing the coat again." 

Harry's eyes go wide, his cheeks flushing scarlet. "Yeah, sorry. Uh, I'll wash it and bring it back to you." He starts to slide under the table, willing to actually crawl to get out of this situation. 

"No, stop, Harry." Zayn says, grabbing ahold of his upper arm to stop him from trying to get out. Harry tenses up, but stops trying to get out. Zayn drops his hand and continues, "Can I ask you something?" 

"You just did." Harry retorts nervously, avoiding his eyes. 

Zayn lets out a small laugh, more a huff of air than anything. "Seriously, H." 

"Shoot." Harry sighs for what feels like the millionth time this past hour, still not looking up. 

Zayn hesitates, eyes darting around nervously, biting at his bottom lip. Then he speaks, his voice quiet, almost a whisper. "Are you homeless, H?" 

Harry's body goes rigid. "Let me out." 

"Harry-" Zayn tries. 

"Let me out." 

"Please." Zayn pleads. "I just want to help. You don't have to be embarrassed." 

Harry closes his eyes, rubbing his temples.  "Last time I say this, Zayn. Let. Me. Out." 

Zayn sighs dejectedly, but nods, sliding out of the booth. Harry slides out immediately, heading straight for the door, not a single glance towards Zayn. 

"Wait!" Zayn tries again. "Just talk to me, please." 

Harry snaps, jerking back around to face him. "I don't know you! I don't know any of you! Why the hell would I tell you guys anything about me?" 

Zayn jerks back like he's been slapped. "We just want to help." He whispers. 

"We don't know each other. If you're trying to help me because you pity me, go somewhere else. I'm perfectly fine on my own. I don't need you guys." With that being said, Harry walks out of the coffee shop, rubbing at his eyes as tears start to fall. 

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