Need • Zarry

19. But first...you

No. No, this can't be happening.

The nausea in Harry's stomach was grappling, growing, so bad to the point where he thought he just might throw up as he quickly made his way back outside the dorm building and proceeded to lean himself up against the wall.

Breathing heavily, Harry slunk down until he was just sitting on the cold, concrete sidewalk with his knees brought up to his chest. It was his worst fear come to life, a complete and utter nightmare.

The only way he could describe how he felt was simply heart broken, just an empty shell of a person as he zoned out, not even sure what to do or think or how to even react. He thought about how cruel it was for this to happen just as he thought that things were going to work out for him.

And then he kept thinking over and over again about some facts he hadn't quite processed before now; how Zayn and him weren't exactly tied down to anything specific or serious and it's not like they had ever talked about loyalty or monogamy since he left because there was no real relationship, at least not a formal one where they were exclusive and committed so it's not technically cheating.

Right?

But somehow Harry still felt like it was cheating and he wondered why and how it was that he always ended up against some wall on the verge of in tears whenever he crossed over into New York City, like it was some curse. And then he thought about the essay Zayn had written and how he said he loved him all the time and now Harry was so, so confused because he just didn't believe Zayn was the type of person to go behind his back like that.

He couldn't be, could he?

Harry even replayed the voicemail of Zayn in his mind on loop sounding like he was so excited to see him and it was only a matter of two days ago. It didn't make any sense.

Yeah, so excited to see me after he fucks someone else.

Harry fought with all his might to hold back tears in his eyes and he sniffed them away, considering a debate on whether or not he would go back inside and let them both have it. Maybe he'd punch Dante and tell Zayn to go to hell, he thought. And the rage inside of him wanted to do just that, but Harry knew he wouldn't. So instead he just sat there and had no idea what to do next as he hung his head down into his lap and hugged his knees to his chest.

But then he heard Zayn's voice and he practically jumped in his skin at the sound of him abruptly calling his name.

"Harry!?"

Harry immediately looked up from where he sat and saw Zayn rolling towards him on a skateboard. He was in this black snake t-shirt with the sleeves cut off, his walkman in one hand and a large pair of headphones dangling around his neck. He also had a brown paper bag in the opposite hand, clutching it tight, and he looked over at Harry as if he had three heads.

"Harry...what are you doin sittin on the ground?" Zayn asked curiously as he hopped off his skateboard and kicked it up, leaning it against the wall of his dorm building.

"I, uh...weren't you just..." Harry stammered as he furrowed his brows at Zayn.

Zayn just froze and let out a short chuckle, looking completely bewildered as he sat down beside him on the ground, crossing his legs.

"What? What are you stoned or somethin? Are you okay?"

"No I'm not stoned. I'm just so fucking confused. I swore I just walked in on you and Dante in bed together," Harry spoke, rubbing at his temples where a small cluster headache was starting to form and Zayn started to burst out with laughter.