°• 𝙰𝙻𝙱𝚄𝙼 𝙰𝚁𝚃 •°[ 𝚣𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚢 ]

It's not living ☁️

ZAYN

And all I do is sit and think about you
If I knew what you'd do
Collapse my veins wearing beautiful shoes
It's not living if it's not with you
All I do is sit and drink without you
If I choose then I lose
Distract my brain from the terrible news
It's not living if it's not with you

I can't stop sweating or control my feet
Got a twenty-stone monkey that I just can't beat
I can stage a situation, but I just can't eat
And there's a feeling, you're replacin' embracin'

Zayn sat on the couch beside Joe, the muted glow of the television casting flickering shadows across the room. But he wasn't watching the movie. His mind was trapped in a loop, replaying the evening's silent heartbreak over and over again.

He had invited Joe over after a long, exhausting day at the office, hoping a night together would help him unwind. Things had started simply—some casual conversation, laughter, and then the quiet comfort of being close. Gradually, the space between them disappeared, until they were pressed up together on the bed, breathless, hands exploring familiar territory.

But when Joe reached for that final piece of clothing, when the moment came to cross that last threshold, Zayn's body betrayed him. He froze.

Joe's eyes flicked up instantly, sensing the sudden chill, the abrupt hesitation. Zayn's heart hammered in confusion and shame. He had been so ready, so eager just moments before. The long stretch of days apart, Joe's recent trip to Anaheim for a convention—they'd both been craving this closeness. Yet now, something inside him had shuttered completely.

In that fractured moment, Zayn's mind betrayed him—images of someone else, Harry, flooded in. The thought of being in Harry's arms, of his green eyes looking into his, overwhelmed and froze him. The desire in his pants deflated as quickly as it had flared.

Joe, ever the gentle soul, didn't push. He simply wrapped an arm around Zayn's trembling shoulders and said softly, "Hey, we can just cuddle. Watch the movie. No pressure."

It was Joe's kindness, his unwavering patience, that finally forced Zayn to confront the truth he'd been burying deep. He couldn't keep stringing Joe along, not when his heart was tangled with feelings for someone else—someone he wasn't even sure could ever reciprocate.

Joe didn't deserve half-measures or half-hearted affection.

The weight of this realization sat heavy on Zayn's chest as he lay with his head resting against Joe's heartbeat, steady and warm. After a long silence, he finally found the courage to speak.

He reached up and gently cupped Joe's cheek, his thumb tracing soft circles over his cheekbone. Joe looked down at him, eyes bright but patient, a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips.

With a trembling voice, heavy with vulnerability, Zayn whispered, "We need to talk."

Joe switched off the TV, and they both sat upright on the couch, fingers intertwining as they braced for the difficult conversation ahead.

Zayn started slowly, telling Joe how deeply he loved him, how much the years they'd shared had meant. He spoke of his confusion, the way his feelings had shifted these past few months, the emotions he hadn't understood and couldn't ignore any longer.

As he spoke, his voice broke, tears silently spilling down his cheeks. Joe's grip tightened, fingers digging gently into Zayn's hand, an unspoken reassurance in the quiet room.

Joe's eyes shimmered with tears, and at some point, their hands slipped apart, and they moved into an embrace—two souls clutching each other, mourning a loss that felt like the unraveling of everything they once believed would last.

They sobbed quietly together, the sound heavy with heartbreak and love intertwined.

After what felt like an eternity, Joe gently pulled away, resting his hands on Zayn's shoulders. His voice was steady but soft, full of warmth and unwavering support.

"You are one of the kindest, warmest people I've ever met," Joe said, his eyes locked on Zayn's. "You put your whole heart into everything you do. You're one of the bravest people I know. I'm so proud of the man you've become—from the shy, adorable boy I met years ago to the incredible person you are now, working your dream job."

He paused, swallowing hard before continuing, "I hold no grudges. I'm grateful you told me the truth before anything worse could happen. I love you, Zayn."

Joe pressed a final, tender kiss to Zayn's lips, then reluctantly pulled himself up from the couch. Zayn watched through blurry eyes as Joe grabbed his coat and slipped on his shoes.

Just before opening the door, Joe turned back with a soft, bittersweet smile.

"Whether you decide to tell him or not," he said, "Harry's a lucky man. And no matter what, I'll always be here. You can come to me—advice, support, anything you need."

Then, with a little chuckle that sounded more like a sigh, Joe added, "But... maybe hold off on relationship advice for a few months. Give my heart a chance to heal."

The door closed quietly behind him.

Zayn sat alone on the couch, the silence pressing down on him as the tears he'd been holding back finally broke free, each sob echoing louder than the last. The weight of love lost, and uncertain love found, settled deep into his bones as he stared into the darkness, feeling more alone than ever.