eternity. ♡ zarry ♡

22: even now

Four and a Half Years Later.

It was the first time Zayn had been home in a year. He spent his last year of university living in a one bedroom apartment, working all night and studying all day. He was exhausted by the end of it all, but seeing his mother and father waving at him in the large crowd as his name was called, it all felt worth it.

His father hugged him the moment he saw him, holding him tight and telling him how overjoyed and extremely proud he was. Then his mother held his face in her hands and she smiled, her eyes glossed over with tears that never fell. She didn't have to speak for him to know everything she wanted to say.

That evening, their home was filled with old friends and family Zayn never knew he had.

There were countless times people came up to Zayn, stared at him for a moment, then hugged him. They told him how big he had gotten, how grown and mature he was. They asked about what he spent the past four years studying, about whether or not he had a job lined up for him.

Although exhausted and socially drained, he felt happy. Today was about him, for him. He was grateful for everyone that was there.

Then, as if a ghost breathed on the back of his neck, Zayn froze. He felt his chest clinch, goosebumps rise on his skin; he nearly forgot to breathe.

There was a sudden relief when they made eye contact and Harry smiled at him, so happy that even with his hair longer, a face full of hair, and tattoos on his body, Harry still recognized him. He wanted nothing more than to yell, to scream about how incredibly happy he was, to express the overwhelming joy he felt.

Zayn thought, Don't cry. Please don't cry.

"Hi." Harry's voice was soothing.

There had only been a few times that they saw each other after high school graduation. They were young, scared of what would happen if they talked about their future together, scared they might end up hating each other because of the distance. They never broke it off or took a break, they just drifted. Zayn on one end, Harry on the other.

"Harry," Zayn breathed. "I've missed you."

Harry hugged him. "I was only a call away." Zayn hugged him back.

He was warmer, stronger. He smelled of cologne with a faint scent of lime apple body wash. "I've missed you too," Harry said.

Zayn pulled away, took Harry's hand and pulled him upstairs to his old bedroom. The walls were still covered with some of Zayn's art, the ones that weren't too personal. His mattress had different bedding on it— yellow sheets rather than blue ones with a white comforter laid across it. His old desk sat in the same little corner, scratched up with bits of paint on it. Everything felt the same, yet different.

"How've you been?" Zayn asked. He was watching Harry walk around his room, staring at his old sketches. He wondered what Harry was thinking about, what he had experienced these past few years, why he stopped replying to Zayn's texts.

"Alright. I actually figured out what I wanted to study. I thought I wasn't good at anything, but then I thought back to that school project that talked about masculinity and found out I really love to take photos of people." Harry looked at Zayn. "I like to capture them."

Harry paused for a moment, his eyes still on Zayn but his mind somewhere else.

His voice was quiet and filled with happiness. "I've gained quite a following on Instagram. People really love my photos."

"That's amazing, Haz." Zayn smiled, he loved that Harry was so happy, that the past few years had been filled with joy, adventure and self discovery.

Harry laughed and said, "Hearing you call me that makes me so happy."

It was silent for a while, Zayn watching Harry and Harry looking at his wall of old sketches and tattered desk. He would run his fingers across the scratches, the chipped corners, and the dry paint. Zayn wanted to know so badly what Harry was thinking.

"Can I say something?" Harry asked.

He looked up from the desk and to Zayn. His eyes weren't as starry and as glistening as before. They were a bit dark and foggy, like he was going to cry.

"Anything."

"I thought of you everyday since we left for college. I wondered if you thought of me like I thought of you, if you missed me like I missed you. Then I got thinking: 'Would he even care if I stopped messaging him? Would he even notice?'" Harry's fingernails scraped against the surface of the desk and his hand bald into a fist. "And then I stopped texting you, stopped calling, stopped FaceTiming. I broke my own heart."

Harry was crying now. He was silent as the tears fell, never sniffling, never letting out a sob.

"I just can't believe I abandoned you all because of my stupid thoughts. And you know what makes it even more heartbreaking? You greet me with a smile and wide, excited eyes like you still love me."

Zayn understood. He knew how incriminating, how cruel, and how evil the mind could be to itself. He spent years thinking he wasn't lovable, that he would never be loved, and yet, Harry loved him.

"I do," Zayn said. "I do love you. Even now, after all our lost time, I love you."

He said it with so much ease that it surprised him. How could he love someone after they abandoned him? After they left him without a word? Or an explanation?

But then he thought, Would it still feel this painful if I didn't love him?

"Even now? After all this time?" Harry looked shattered, yet hopeful.

"Even now. We missed some years, but that's fine. No amount of time can keep me from loving you."

******

Hello!  I know it's been a while, but I hope it was worth the wait. I spent a lot of time thinking about how to end this and I think this is an okay ending.

Do you have any ideas on a better one? Let me know! Maybe it can be an alternative ending! I think I've spent so much time in this story, although short, and I wanted so badly to move on make something new. I hope with my next fanfic, you'll enjoy it just as much as you've enjoyed this one. If you read it, that is.

Thank you for your support and your comments. I love reading them.

<3