Room 301 [Zarry]

like puzzle pieces

I'm in a stupor, smile stuck on my face long after she leaves. The sheets smell like her and I just want to wrap myself up in them and never leave. A little cocoon, I  could sleep the day away. There's a soft thud from outside and I jump up out of bed, heart climbing my ribcage like a ladder. My palms are sweaty as I move towards the sound. It suddenly stops and the sliding door to the balcony opens. I trip over his shoe, my face dangerously close to the concrete.

"Oh my god," he pulls me tight to his chest, fingers knotted in my hair. I gasp, struggling to catch my breath, heart still racing. "Harry," he whispers softly, fingers still lost in my curls. He grabs a few tufts, fists them up desperately as he tries to hold onto some part of me. I shatter a bit, suddenly aware of his soft sobs and the way his body is shaking.

"Zayn," my voice is barely there. "You're trembling. Come on, come inside." I tug him in and shut the door tight behind us. "What's going on? Why were you out there?"

"Just wanted to face my fears," he sniffles. "But I'm still so scared Harry, I'm pathetic and scared. I'm so scared, I'm so scared-"

I'm completely crushed, my heart breaks into a million pieces before I envelope him in my arms. I can feel the weight of his head on my shoulder and I'm sure he can feel the weight of the entire world on his own shoulders as my hand trails down his back. "You didn't have to do all this for me," I murmur. "But I can't thank you enough. Please...don't push yourself to face the past right now. I need you. Even when you think I don't."

"Yeah?"

I gaze over at the beautiful flower arrangement and the scattered individually wrapped chocolates on the nightstand and bite back a smile. I'm not thinking when my hands move to his waist but I hear the subtle hitch in his breath. "Sorry I-"

"You deserve someone like Kit," he interrupts. "It's the least I could do. The way you smile when you're with her...I want you to always be that happy. It reminds me of some of the best times-" Now he's stopping abruptly, inhaling sharply. His breaths sound pained and desperate and I want nothing more than to provide him comfort, to just be here with him in the moment. "I just don't want you to end up like me and I know she's exactly what you need. I'm positive you won't mess things up but flowers and sappy cards never hurt."

"Of course you wrote that card," I chuckle.

He lets out an annoyed huff of hair, puts some distance between us. "And what does that mean?"

"You're a hopeless romantic. Obviously."

"Obviously," he echoes, trying not to laugh. "I know you're still overwhelmed and nothing makes sense right now but eveything will fall into place, I promise. Like puzzle pieces Harry."

"Yeah," I smile, heart extremely happy. "I think I might sign with Columbia soon and get myself in the studio. I have a million ideas and I'm sure not all of them are terrible. There's just this annoying little nagging feeling and it's holding me back."

"What's that," he asks concerned. "You have the looks, the voice, the heart, the drive. You're the whole package. Nothing can stop you."

"Okay, I know this sounds stupid but have you ever started a puzzle with the edges and worked your way towards the middle? And you're doing really well and you can see the entire picture coming together and you're so close?"

"I guess," he replies hesitantly, breath still close enough to fall warmly upon my skin.

"You know exactly what size piece you need and what it should look like but it's missing and you're going out of your mind crazy because it's the last one-"

His hand finds my cheek and my brain turns to static. "Harry, you aren't missing anything. I don't understand. You just need to have a little faith in yourself. Follow your arrow. I trust that you have all you need to be successful. Don't fall into the trappings of the industry and stay genuine. You've got it. Make yourself believe it."

Nothing has filled the empty space. Maybe it's just me being homesick or maybe it's feeling lost and general lack of guidance on how to produce a debut album. Or maybe I miss Kit and the space she occupies in my heart.

"Will you promise me something," he asks, voice a mere whisper.

"Anything," I reply, fully trusting him with my heart.

"Never deny yourself happiness, never let anyone take it away or try to change you. Give your heart what it wants and always fight for what you believe in, even if it means risking everything. You know what? I don't care if you lose everything, your fame, your fans, your fortune just never lose yourself. It's so easy to be blinded by things that don't matter. Once you start making music to sell instead of for you, it's over. You've already lost yourself."

I can tell that he's speaking from experience and it pains me. "I hate Hollywood for making you feel as if you weren't good enough. I hate numbers and charts and figures and fancy hotels. I especially hate drugs and alcohol and the sense of false reality...the fantasy they create. I hate almost everything about this damned place. I hate that you're stuck here, that this is where millions of dreams go to die."

"Lucky for us, this hotel is a piece of shit," he jokes and I ease up, body relaxing as his hand finds the small of my back.

"Kit told me no dream is too stupid and no dream is too big and I love that about her, I love her optimism. I wish my mind worked like that. It's just...if no dream is unattainable then why are you here? What dream is so impossible you're caught between death and the afterlife?"

Absolute silence. I can hear my own heartbeat.

"I wish I knew, I gave up on my dreams forever ago."