Let Me Show You How to Love Yourself (Larry Stylinson) ✅

Mornings in the Flat

"Hey Hazza! Time to wake up, love," Zayn shouted, throwing open the blinds in Harry's room. Harry moaned as the bright sun beams struck his sleepy eyes, and pulled the covers over his face to avoid the morning light.

"Fuck off, Zayn!" Harry groaned as he readjusted himself beneath the lilac blanket.

Zayn laughed and pulled the covers off of Harry, causing him to jolt awake in a panic as the cold winter air hit his skin.

"Zayn, you know I get fucking cold. Stop!" Harry shouted. His thin body was completely covered in thick sweatpants, woolen socks and two sweatshirts, but he was shivering profusely, his long brown curls bouncing on his back.

Just at that moment, Liam walked into the room. While Zayn was usually considered the prankster, Liam was the "dad" of the bunch, always delegating chores to everyone in the flat and making sure each boy got home okay after a long night out at the pub.

Liam took one look at Harry shivering and rolling around his bed like a rolly polly bug and shot Zayn a dirty look, glaring at him with his deep brown eyes. "Zayn," he hissed through his teeth. "You have to be gentle with him. You know he gets cold, you can't shock his body like that."

Harry, who was now sitting upright in bed, nodded in agreement, his big green eyes looking a bit more lively than usual, but still scarily sunken into his gaunt face.

Zayn looked down at the floor, guiltily, running a hand through his dark hair. "I'm sorry, Harry," he said quietly. "I just wanted you to get up because we're making you breakfast before we leave for work this morning."

Harry nodded, but his stomach lurched at the thought of eating something. "Hazza," Liam cooed, as he helped Harry down from his lofted bed, offering him a strong arm for support. "Just come and try a few bites. It's just fruit with yogurt. We got Greek yogurt -- it's healthy and has protein."

"Sure," Harry said softly, his voice cracking a bit. "I can handle that. I had more than that most mornings at the hospital."

"Of course, mate. You can do it," Zayn said, leading him to the kitchen. Liam took a seat with Harry at the square, cream-colored table and handed him a spoon. Unlike Liam, who had been up for hours prepping for his presentation and getting dressed, Zayn was running late, and struggled with his tie in the corner of the kitchen.

"Fuck this presentation today," Zayn groaned to Liam, as he redid the knot for the second time.

"Hey -- I prepared hard for this. You better not fuck us over here Malik. My promotion depends on it," Liam replied, stone-faced. Zayn stared back at him, tie in hand, and then the two boys burst out laughing, their high-pitched giggles filling the quiet kitchen nook.

"Fuck you mate," Zayn giggled, slapping Liam's shoulder. "I thought you were bloody serious."

Zayn and Liam had met about a year ago when working at the same office building in Canary Wharf. Oddly enough, Zayn was moving out of his old place when Liam desperately needed another roommate a few months ago, so Liam offered him a room and things went swimmingly from there.

Zayn moved in with Liam and Harry, his best friend from uni, and the three of them hit off perfectly, despite Liam and Harry having a deeper history. In fact, after just a few weeks, Harry and Zayn began to form a close friendship. In fact, sometimes Harry preferred to tell things to Zayn rather than Liam -- mostly because he was less protective and didn't overreact quite as much.

As Zayn and Liam laughed over their presentation, Harry sat at the table, swirling his yogurt around with his spoon and taking small, slow bites. As he returned his gaze to Harry, Liam furrowed his brow at the sighing boy, who was now stuffing little fruit pieces into his napkin.