Need • Zarry

18. Step into the light

Two weeks had turned into four.

Harry was supposed to drive up to New York City after just two weeks since Zayn left, but it seemed as though their schedules just weren't lining up and sadly, life was getting in the way.

The third weekend Harry ended up getting roped into helping his parents out with their house re-modeling and it was also his mother's birthday that weekend, and then Zayn had called him the night before last weekend just to cancel by saying that he didn't feel well, suffering with food poisoning and thought he had eaten something undercooked.

In Harry's mind it was all the more reason for him to go there, he thought, so he could take care of Zayn. But Zayn didn't want to trouble him and asked him to stay home until he felt better. But it had been bothering Harry all week long that Zayn hadn't needed him and somewhere inside he had a sinking feeling that maybe Zayn was lying.

I love you.

That's what Zayn said. He said those words Harry had dared not speak again ever since The Cure concert, the ones that Zayn was so afraid of, the words that were just so difficult for him to process, to accept. But now when he would call Harry from the campus pay phone he said them every time before they hung up and Harry said them back without fail.

I love you.

And even though it made Harry smile and feel better for a few minutes after they hung up for the night, he grew worried that love might not be enough to keep him close.

But Zayn was doing well at NYU. His room mate in the dorms also happened to work with him at the bookstore and it seemed as though they had quickly become good friends - Dante was his name.

And Zayn talked about him a lot. Too much, in fact.

He was so cool, apparently, and he was in a band and he played the drums; they were called The Follies, this alternative grunge band and Zayn thought they were so good, and he went on about how Dante liked poetry and had sick records and they stayed up watching episodes from The Twilight Zone on VHS.

And he's bisexual.

Harry was trying so hard, so incredibly hard not to be jealous of Dante, but he was. He was engulfed in jealousy, overcome with that emotion every single time Zayn mentioned Dante's name, but all Harry could do was bite his tongue and act happy for Zayn that he made a friend, someone he didn't hate the way he hated the people in Montclair. And Harry couldn't help but wonder if Dante would be allured by Zayn and his charm in the same way Harry was.

What if he doesn't need me ever again?

He didn't want Zayn to know that he was worried, though. He didn't want to act possessive and clingy and jealous of his one new friend, potentially driving Zayn away. But Harry was up all night, every night, tossing and turning with deep-seated fear and he'd look over at Henry on the bed beside him and think about Zayn and that trip to Coney Island and how Zayn said he'd never forget him, that he didn't want things to end between them.

But things could always change.

Harry thought about how he used to like his small hometown. He never minded the people or how mediocre it all was and he especially used to love his job at the Montclair Library. Harry had always felt so comfortable there before he ever met Zayn.

But nothing felt the same anymore and as he got up for work and made his coffee and cooked his egg whites, hopping into his Volvo every morning in his suits it just felt as though he was living in a world that wasn't his anymore, like it was all some strange simulation and he was only getting through the days on auto pilot.