Wings on Tailored Suits // Zarry

xix.

Harry's angry at first, furiously drinking the bitter liquid straight from the bottle as he curses Gemma and Zayn out in his head because they don't fucking understand. They couldn't possibly understand that Harry would be a fucking wreck by now if he and Sebastian hadn't started dating. Bruises and pain don't matter to Harry because he'd much rather go through this than spend every night after a party fucking crying in his bed. It's not just about their relationship because Harry can be single. He loves being single even, enjoys hooking up with people and leaving in the morning without any bad blood between them. It's about how Sebastian affects Harry's whole life in the most positive way. He's Harry's confidant, his friend and his lover. Over the few months they've been together, they have become a unit, two people in love in their own little bubble where they're so happy they could choke with it.

As the vodka progressively disappears from the bottle and Harry gets drunker, his idiotic brain starts to tell him to get emotional over Gemma and Zayn worrying about him. It must have been shocking for them to see Harry, someone they care about, with bruises on him that were inflicted by his boyfriend. Gemma referred to it as abuse but Harry doesn't really perceive it as such. He probably should though. Or at least fight back. Just because Sebastian brought heaps of happiness into Harry's life it doesn't mean he can make him miserable too. They will have to talk about it without any sugar-coating because Harry can't bear to have Sebastian leave him. He just can't.

But then he wonders what would happen if Sebastian did leave. Would he be as miserable as he used to be? Would he be relieved there's no longer the threat of being hurt just for saying something or hugging his friend? Could he navigate the entangled labyrinth of Manhattan's party scene on his own as he once used to? Sebastian gave Harry the catalyst for finally staying true to himself. Well, at least to some extent. Harry doesn't switch between personas with every person he talks to anymore. But could he keep it up after if Sebastian left?

Fuck it, he could. Because on the floor of Zayn's dining room, Harry realizes one very crucial thing – Sebastian hasn't been the only person making him happy. Harry had some of the best times in years at his friends' parties this fall. Without Sebastian. Happiness isn't exclusively interwoven with Sebastian's presence in Harry's life. He's not alone, even when Sebastian's gone. He has Lara, Peyton, Chris. After a very long period of time caused by Harry's nonsense, Zayn's back in his life too. The 'Fab Five' is back together and Harry's always been the happiest when they were together.

Harry read once about the different types of love according to ancient Greeks. Friendship, or philia, is the most important once. And it must be true because a friend is sometimes so much more than a lover. But it's still not enough for him. Not compared to what he has with Sebastian.

The bottle's getting dangerously emptier and Harry's lying on the floor, his eyes fixed on a ceiling. He lets his head drop on the side then, his gaze now on the dining table and he has to laugh because he's hit with the memory of having sex on that table with Zayn a very long time ago. They were literally crazy back then. It was like some kind of a spell they were under where they couldn't get enough of each other. Harry wonders why they didn't date. Of course, he's aware that he didn't want to, not Zayn. Which is stupid because Harry was crazy about him. But then again, they were best friends and best friends don't date. They also don't have sex but that memo kind of missed them by a lot more than a mile. God, Harry wanted Zayn so bad it used to drive him mad but they couldn't just start dating, could they? No matter how great it was to be together, just the two of them, it wouldn't have lasted. They were young and stupid, they would've ended up thinking they're in love and be one of those annoying couples that go to college together and shit.

And Jesus fucking Christ. Harry sits up suddenly, his head spinning like a carousel gone wild. They were in love. They were in fucking love and Harry's stupid sixteen-year-old brain didn't want to admit it. Harry realizes it now, two years too late in his drunken stupor. It took him falling in love again with someone else to realize. How could have he been so stupid not to see it? Is he always this blind to everything around him?