One Direction BoyxBoy One Shots

ZARRY

Kind of based on a snippet of the Kiss You video, where Harry and Zayn are in a motorcycle with Liam in the sidecar. Except Liam isn't really in the story as much. I saw the idea on a site called fanfiction.com, and used the idea. If the writer of that story doesn't like this, tell me and I'll take it down.

-ZARRY-

It was all a blur to him, really. He was confused and tired. He tried to lift himself, but couldn't. He really wasn't sure what was going on. It was all a blur, and still is. But there was a lot of red liquid. It was all around him, and on him.

He saw a motorcycle. It looked like his motorcycle. It was broken, completely broken. It was his motorcycle. But that was not what it looked like before, he was sure. He forced his brown eyes to look further around.

He saw a car and a truck. Both were smashed. They looked like they had collided. He groaned to himself, both in pain, and in realisation. Now he knew why Liam had always forced a helmet onto his head, it really hurt now.

He continued to look around.  He saw two bodies lying a couples metres ahead of him, well away from the motorcycle. Both had dark brown curly hair and were both very still. It was very strange that the boy could recognise the colour of the two boys hair, it was both coated in blood. Their clothing was shredded, they were both wearing casual clothes.

Weirdly, both of the boys hairstyles had been very similar to the youngest of the bandmates. Now that Zayn thought about it, both looked like Harry.

He gave it a moment of thought, even though his head hurt worse now due to the approaching ambulances and sirens. What had they been doing? Thats right, the meeting. But where were the rest of the boys? Didn't they go with him?

But they couldn't have. His motorcycle only fit two people, and there were five of them. So where were the other three? That's right, they had gone in a car. Now looking back on it, Zayn thought that he should've gone with them instead of going by motorcycle.

He remembered the boys, all five of them, getting ready to go to a meeting with management. He remembered how he had got a new motorcycle, and wanted to test it out. So instead of going with the other four boys, he would test out his new vechicle. And then Harry volunteered to come with him. Stupidly, he agreed.

Zayn didn't normally speed or take shortcuts, but this time he did. This time was the only biking injury he had ever gotton.

The few moments were a blur to him. He was lifted onto a stretcher, and into the ambulance. He heard the paramedics say, "This one's alive!" Before they closed the door to the ambulance. They gave him shots of all sorts which made him fall asleep right then and there.

When he woke up, he was in a white room, which he identified as the hospital. Three boys were next to his bed, two of which were crying their eyes out.

Niall and Liam both had tear stained eyes, but Louis was just sitting there, staring at the wall. The boys only lifted their heads when they heard the bed creak. They only stared at Zayn, not saying anything. Only silence filled the room.

After a few minutes, Liam stood up. He left to get the doctor, returning after a few seconds. But Zayn choose not to listen to him. The only thing Zayn could think about was the last thing he heard the paramedics say, "This one's alive!"

Who had they been talking about? Surely it was Harry. But it could have been the other man. He wasn't sure. But whoever it was, he was scared. He was scared that his own actions could have caused him to take his best mates life. But then again, "This one's alive," didn't really meant the other was dead, did it?

When the doctor was done, the boys decided to leave. Apparently Zayn could leave whenever he wanted to.

It was then, when the four boys walked into the funeral parlour, that he knew what the doctor had said. They found three bodies, one of which was him. The other two bodies were very similar. The one that had been closest to Zayn's motorcycle had been dead. His skull had cracked open. Louis identified him as Harry.

The other man, driving to work, had only sustained minor injuries and was now at his hometown hospital recovering.

But Harry was dead.

Harry was dead.

The body had been too disfigured to show the public, the only thing they had was a small black framed picture of the curly headed boy. It took Zayna moment to process all of this. He fell to the ground, a mess of tears.

He was dead.

It was his fault.

It was all his fault.