Infectious (Ziall)

Sorrow.

Harry's Home.

[Hiding from a world of conflict; an odd escape].

To say the least, Harry was taken aback by Chad standing at his doorstep; black-eyed; bruised knuckles; looking like nothing more than a wounded, lost puppy. He was rendered speechless because it was unexpected and a little out of his comfort zone. Chad had never came to him for anything more than intimacy, minus the lack of passion and the emotional disconnection the two shared; however, what he was witnessing now was still more than he was probably ever prepared for. He stood at the door, the palm of his hand feeling sweaty as he tightly held onto the doorknob, awaiting the moment Chad would say something. Harry opened his mouth, and then closed it, not exactly sure how to tackle the situation - whatever the situation may have been. In that moment, he realized he didn't know much about the teen outside of the basics: name, age, and description. Chad's focus remained on the pavement below him, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth as if he was biting back the agony. "Do you uh - do you want to come in?" Harry asked, feeling a sense of discomfort. Chad lifted his head, his black eye becoming more apparent; a purple and black hue staining the outline of his lids. Harry's eyes widened a little more, running a hand through his disheveled hair; and he stepped aside as the fragile boy brushed past him without a word.

"I wasn't sure how much sugar you like in your coffee, but I've never gotten any complaints before." With trembling hands, Chad took hold of the cup, gently taking it out of Harry's hand. The curly-haired man stood at the islander, keeping some distance between the two. He wasn't quite sure what was going on through the teen's head, but he had an inkling that Chad was somewhat on edge. He took a sip of his own coffee, watching the boy timidly drink his own, taking note of the way he slightly winced when clutching his cup. "Do you maybe want to have sex, take your mind off of things?" Harry suggested, receiving a glare from the hazel-eyed boy. "Or we can talk about what happened . . . if you want," Harry retracted, feeling helpless.

Chad contemplated it and, with a huff, placed his cup on the table. He looked at Harry, the man already watching him, evoking patience. Maybe he was genuinely concerned, maybe he wasn't; however, Chad had no one else to turn to or vent to. Why not the twenty year old that utilizes his body for pleasure; as unappealing as that sounded. "I . . . got into a fight," Chad muttered, "with one of my parents."

"I think a black eye is a bit excessive, for any degree of trouble you could've caused," Harry stated worriedly. "What did you do for that to happen, if you don't mind me asking?"

"The right thing, I hope."

London's Streets.

[Lost in the dark; not exactly looking for a home].

Zayn walked the avenues without a clear conscience, waves of remorse colliding with him with every step he took. The wind moved through his hair, teeth gritting in agony; in disgust; in confusion. Perhaps he had taken things way too far, acting on this sense of incomprehension. He stumbled through a narrow alley, legs giving out and causing him to fall on the pile of trash bags. Unconscious.

Dear God,

Please keep my father safe.

- Chad

_

Author's Note: This chapter was a bit shorter than the others, but that was done purposely. So, we're all aware of why Niall is apprehensive to get back on track with Zayn, but what do you all think is the reason behind Zayn's behavior? Is it the guilt or cheating or do you think it goes beyond that?