USW 1

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Harry and Zayn's friendship/relationship has always worked in mysterious ways. Never quite friends, never quite boyfriends. Ever since the moment they first saw each other, it was different between them. Harry categorized each of the boy pretty quickly. Niall was the funny one, an Irish lad that Harry could always count on to be there when he needed cheering up. Louis was his best friend, in the beginning they were the closest in the band until Harry's ill-advised crush quite literally ruined it. Liam was the serious one, the person they could all rely on to get them up in the morning to rehearse after a night full of drinking. But Zayn, he was never labelled in Harry's head, never fit to just one single category.

            Zayn was an enigma. A quiet, shy boy that wasn't quiet nor shy at all when he got comfortable around you. He didn't really talk to Harry in the early stages of One Direction and Harry put it down to their clashing personalities. As time went by, Harry's crush on Louis disappeared and they all got a bit older, Harry started to perceive Zayn in a different way. He noticed how smart Zayn was, always pitching in words that none of them could remember, always reading a book with a deep title, by authors whose quotes people used in academical works. He started to love Zayn's sense of humour, love the way he talked, the way he sang. Harry also started to see Zayn's beauty. The slope of his nose, the sharp edges of his jaw, his prominent cheekbones. Not to mention his long, long eyelashes and his eyes, that Harry has got lost in thousands of times. He often found himself wondering how Zayn's lips would feel on his and it was driving him crazy, the fear of ruining yet another friendship with a bandmate with his stupid teenager hormones.

            It was during the endless hours they spent recording the first album when Harry found that Zayn might like him back and definitely not in a friendly way. It was around that time when pining and wishful looks turned to lingering touches and fleeting kisses. And ever since then, Harry knew they would never be friends.

            They're not friends now. Zayn might think so, but perhaps he doesn't know about Harry's feelings which haven't gone away and neither got weaker. Harry doesn't say anything about it. He smiles, laughs, talks but he never says a thing.

            The Great Mystery of Harry and Zayn only gets more complicated when they start to hang out again. To Harry, the reasons behind it are still wrapped in mist. After the lunch for Harry's birthday, they just started to talk all the time. It wasn't planned at all. Something about it felt natural, as easy as breathing. Falling into it was as simple as stumbling off a plane that has no doors, or walls for that matter. It's as if they were just walking down the aisle and suddenly, they were freefalling straight to the ground. Whether they have parachutes or not, it's still unclear.

            It started with Zayn hesitantly asking "Can I see you again?" and Harry's heart pounding, his breath catching in his throat as he answered "Yes, of course.". Then it was exchanging each other's numbers, trading phones to punch in the digits, to texting every single day. It was one arranged meeting to randomly calling or texting each other, a quick 'hi r u free tonight? dinner @ my place?' all that it takes for them to meet up. It was a steady stream of contact, a force neither of them could possibly control.

            Maybe it's the juxtaposition of it that makes them so consumed by their friendship. In matter of days, they went from nothing to absolutely everything. For years, they didn't as much as glance at each other, didn't sent a single birthday or Christmas wish. And almost miraculously, a day doesn't go by without them at least sending a text to each other. Perhaps that's the beauty of it, the fascination that keeps them both captivated with keeping in touch.

            Harry feels like a drug addict. One that had gotten over his addiction only to relapse so catastrophically that he could practically see his own end. Harry survived without Zayn. He was quite alright, perhaps already on the path to successfully getting over him once and for all. His rehab lasted three years and Harry did miss Zayn, sometimes felt like screaming his lungs out from the top of a skyscraper or hunting Zayn's address down to come barging in and dramatically confessing his love. It was a rollercoaster of being broken hearted but Harry managed it just fine. Now he's had a hit of his favourite drug and he's not sure he'll ever be able to let go again.

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