Veronica [Zarry]

somewhere else

I'm in a daydream, gazing out the busted blinds when Trisha and Yaser burst in.

Trisha has been crying but when my eyes flick over to Zayn's dad I realize that he has been too.

"I told him that place was no good," she sniffles, going over to his beside to stroke his forehead. "My baby."

"Nothing good has ever come out of being a stripper," he grunts in response.

"You can sit if you'd like," I offer as I get out of the chair.

I flinch as he steps closer, gaze into his honey eyes brimmed with tears. He puts his hand on my shoulder and attempts a smile. "That's okay Harry."

I'm stunned, staring at him with wide and curious eyes. He pulls me in for a loose hug that breaks apart as soon as we hear his voice.

"Dad?"

Tears cling to his lashes, he licks at his dry lips.

"I think I owe you an apology son," he says softly, bending down to take his hand. "You know I love you very much and getting the call that you were in the hospital made me realize that we need to put our differences aside. They don't matter. What matters is that you're safe and happy. As your father it's my job to ensure that you have a better life than I did."

"Dad," he repeats again, voice cracking.

"Is that why you acted out? Is it because of me?"

A noise gets caught in the back of his throat as he nods, tears flowing down his cheeks.

"You don't have to do this to get my attention."

"I forgive you but I...I need to apologize to Harry," he clears his throat, eyes flicking over to me. "I shouldn't have left and I'm sorry. My mind wasn't in a good place but I don't want you to think you're the reason I walked away, I'll never do that to you again. I promise Haz. You're so good to me a-and-"

His dad squeezes his hand. "It's alright son. I'm not going to stop you from seeing Harry, I realize how much he means to you and he's been here all night by your side."

"I need you," he hiccups and Trisha whispers something to Yaser, pulling him away from the bed. He wraps his arms around her before telling Zayn he'll give us some space.

It grows quiet once they've left the room, the world around us is still. Every so often a machine will beep but besides that it's just the sound of my heartbeat and his soft breaths as I kneel beside the bed.

"I never want to end up here again," I say sternly. "If there's something wrong we need to talk it out. What you did was selfish and immature-"

"Please Harry," he begs and I break a little. "I love you."

"Claire told me you'd do this. Why Zayn? Why do you push people away?"

He winces but I look at him expectantly, unrelenting.

"I need answers. In my mind I thought we told each other everything. I trust you babe."

We're interrupted by the doctor who unhooks Zayn and tells him he's free to go, everything has been flushed from his system and his vitals are all in check.

He swallows the lump in his throat, hooks onto my arm and I help him change into some spare clothes his mum brought. I collect his wig, and all of the clothes he wore at the club and stuff it in a reusable tote bag.

When we get home he collapses on the bed, words muffled as he tells me everything.

"It was a few months after I started working at the club. He came in every so often and I kind of caught his eye. We started sleeping together and he had me convinced that he wasn't weirded out by my situation. When I was myself he told me that he loved me, that sexuality is just a label. Everything he promised me sounded real, I believed in every breath and I hung onto every word he spoke-"

"It's okay," I murmur, rubbing the small of his back.

"Then he left without a warning and I saw him k-kissing Claire," he blinks back tears, bites his bottom lip until he draws blood. "I saw so much more than that," he screws his eyelids shut.

"Babe I need you to relax. It's okay, I love you. You're okay," I repeat softer, stroking his hairline.

He's an ocean of tears but I wrap him up in my arms and hold him, rock him gently until his hiccups fade and his sobs grow silent.

"She was my best friend," he admits. "I felt so hurt a-and betrayed. Claire didn't know about us though, it wasn't her fault."

"What do you mean?"

"I never told her we were together but I was spiteful and mean and I lashed out at her," his voice quivers. "I leaked an amateur sex tape she made and it crushed her. For some reason I assumed she knew, that she did it on purpose but what I did was so wrong and I felt horrible. That wasn't like me at all, to dig up something so demeaning and display it to the world."

"So you tried to apologize and she didn't accept?"

"Things got worse, he admitted that he was straight and that he only ever wanted me as Veronica. If he would have known I was a guy-"

"That doesn't make sense, he loved you Zayn. He wouldn't just string you on like that. Not unless...you think Claire put him up to it?"

"I'll never know if she tried to ruin things between us but it doesn't matter now."

"You matter to me, your feelings matter," I whisper, brushing our noses together, thumb stroking beneath his jaw. "Don't walk away this time."

"Harry," he sighs happily.

We undress, expose our bodies and our hearts. I feel the quickness of his pulse in his neck followed by a wave of calm as he melts into a kiss.

I straddle his waist, feel his smooth, tight skin beneath my fingers. Zayn is so delicate, I handle him with care.

He unravels for me and there are so many thoughts in my head.

There's a lot of pain and me not understanding why he doesn't realize how beautiful is, why I can feel his ribs poking out from under his skin.

"I can't do this," I say shakily as I draw back, tears stinging my eyes.

"No please," he cries out softly, voice hitching. "I need you."

"For what Zayn? Reassurance?"

His cheekbones are so hollow, face made up of sharp angles. He looks gaunt.

I swear his health has declined so suddenly. When he's Veronica he hides his insecurity, masks his hurt with makeup but I'm fucking breaking.

"I'm not going to pretend everything is okay," I warn him gently. "Especially after that stunt you pulled at the club. What were you thinking?"

"I dunno," he answers meekly. "Please don't be mad."

"What do you need from me, how can I help babe?"

He closes his eyes and I gather him into my arms. His back presses to my chest, I run my fingers through his quiff. It kills me to look him eyes, to see tears welling in them so I'd rather hold him this way.

I reach around from behind, stroke him slow and steady as my teeth tug at his skin. My lips leave a trail of obscenely wet kisses on the nape of his neck, all the way down down his spine.

The hairs on his arms bristle and he moans softly as I nibble at his earlobe "take me somewhere else Harry"

Once again, I lay him down, kiss his wet cheeks.

He smiles at me, holds my hand like we always do as he says the simplest and most moving thing I've ever heard.

"Thank you."