Echo Of Us • Zarry

OK! 4

"So after the tour-"

"So nothing," Harry says sternly, his arms stretched out on the glass table.

Everyone looks at him with emotions varying from confusion to shock. The meeting has gone on for only about twenty minutes but Harry just wants to leave. He's already heard them schedule things for when he was supposed to be on his honeymoon and with his phone never hearing from the only person he wants to talk to, really, Harry has had enough.

"I'm taking a break," Harry says, looking at Jeff, then at everyone around the room. "I'll tour, I won't cancel it but then I'm taking a break."

"Why?" Brian asks, rather audaciously. "Do you want to do a film?"

Harry frowns. "No. I just want a break. Focus on my private life a little bit. Is that so bad?"

"Not at all," Janice smiles at Harry to sweetly. "But since you and Zayn broke up we all figured you would want to write a new album afterwards."

Harry scoffs angrily. "So you were all expecting me to write an album about him and move on with my life?"

No one at the table says a thing.

"I let work damage our relationship," Harry says, his gaze razor sharp. "We're not completely over so I won't let another busy schedule fuck the little we have left. Not that it's any of your business to care about that. I want a break. End of discussion."

"Harry-" Jeff starts but Harry cuts him off right away.

"No!" Harry says sternly and stands up. "I'm not gonna talk about it anymore. I'll make an album, don't worry. I won't just stop making music out of nowhere. But I'm not making any plans. Not for work, not for anything. I'm a human being. Goodbye."

He leaves the room and he would love the slam the door but it's glass and he really doesn't feel like risking that. With his luck, Harry would probably have it shatter and it would kill him. He wants a live another day or twenty thousand.

Harry gets down to the underground parking lot rather quickly, not running into many people. Thankfully, no one followed him so he can get into the privacy in his car and let out a huge breath of relief that he's finally away. The anxiety starts to disappear but to Harry's dismay, it's quickly replaced by melancholy.

His phone is burning through his skin in the backpocket, it feels like. Harry pulls it out, starting the lockscreen devoid of any notifications that he wants to see. Co-start is telling him to pay special mind to the completion of projects, whatever that means. His mum sent him two photos of the cats. But that's it.

In a weak moment, Harry clicks on Zayn's contact details. He has him saved as my love with a few saccharinely sweet emojis. He contemplates calling him, just like many times before. He just wants them to fucking talk but Zayn said he'd call. Harry did his part. He hasn't even drunk anything apart from the occasional glass of wine (not counting the eight days after their fight), he hasn't taken anything. And Harry's definitely gathered his thoughts. He's sure he wants this. God, he wants nothing more than to be with Zayn. For good. He wants early mornings when Zayn is grumpy and stealing his coffee instead of making his own. He wants late night with hushed laughter and hungry kisses. He wants years and years together, he wants them to bask in the sun on their honeymoon, he wants them to build a nursery together and bring a baby home. Harry also wants quiet, them older and wiser, with more wrinkles and gray hair but still just as in love as when they were young and wild. He just wants Zayn and their love to be back.

But Harry doesn't press the call button. He's not the one calling the shots now. Instead, he puts his phone back in his pocket and he drives. He drives and drives and drives until the sun has set over Los Angeles and tears have left dry salt-stained streaks on his face.