Chapter Text
All those records in my room they belong to him..
It wasn’t that late when Harry’s phone gave a silent buzz in his pocket, jolting him alive as he nearly dozed off while watching some television. It was Zayn and that made him smile. They had been going on strong for the past seven months; best friends that fell in love and everyone had been very supportive of the two. How could they say no to a couple that seem so cute and perfect?
“I thought you said ten?” That is what Harry answered the phone with. It was Wednesday and the two boys always got together on that night at ten to watch their old favorite movies and just have a little cuddle.
There was a cough on the other end of the line.
It wasn’t Zayn’s smoker cough either. It was old, creepy and nerve wrecking.
“Hello. Is this a Harry Styles?” The voice sent chills down Harry’s spine and not in the way he would like. His eyebrows shot up, his body stilling. What was this man doing with Zayn’s phone? Was this a ransom call? Had he been kidnapped by some crazed murder? Harry’s mind filled with ideas, only letting out a small squeak of a: “Yeah.”
“And you know a Mr. Zayn Malik?” The cold voice was heart shattering to listen too. The way he said Zayn’s name, like he wasn’t for sure he even knew who he was talking about. Like he wasn’t talking about the guy Harry loved and who was on his way to see him.
“You were listed in his emergency contacts. I was informed to call you. It appears Zayn has been in a bit of an accident –“ Harry ended the call. He didn’t know why, but he wanted the man to shut up, the call getting far too real. If he found out Louis was up to this; he’d kill him. Harry did the only thing he knew to do.
He called Zayn’s parents.
And by the sniffles and the cries that could he heard over the phone after the first ring, he shot straight off of the couch. “Where is he? What hospital?” Harry asked franticly and he ran up the stairs, tripping to get to his closet and to retrieve his car keys. “London Bridge.” Zayn’s mom, Patricia replied he cries becoming only louder as Harry whispered “I’ll be there soon.” He could feel the sting of hot tears as they dared to leave his eyes but he stopped himself. He wouldn’t cry, not now. He needed to be strong. Strong for Zayn, strong for Zayn’s family, strong for himself.
He didn’t care what he put on, as long as it was something (since he was only clad in boxers). He didn’t care if it was dirty nor needed a wash. He just found clothes and put them on, desperate to get to Zayn; desperate to know and find out what was going on.
Something did make him stop, something he grabbed his key off of. It was an old record. Zayn had gotten Harry into them, and had brought some over. You could find them in random places around his home. It instantly made his heart hurt, to think “What if something happened to him, something terrible?” Harry shook the thought from his mind, tumbling down the stairs and out to his car. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t speed all the way to the hospital.
*
Harry was panting; completely out of breath as he ran to the certain waiting room which held Zayn’s family. He looked around and when his eyes landed on Patricia, he engulfed her in a large hug, allowing her to cry. Soaking his shirt wet but he didn’t really notice; it didn’t matter anyway.
He noticed that the kids – Zayn’s sisters weren’t there and thought they were probably off with a family member. That is what was best right? They didn’t need to be here and hear the outcome of whatever happened. Harry wasn’t even sure if he himself needed to be.
“What happened?” Zayn questioned, Patricia pulling her body away from his and looked up at him, wiping her eyes she tried to still her sobbing. “He was out, riding his motorcycle and apparently nearly got hit? He swerved but –“ She could even finish her sentence, her tear flowing back down her face as she reached for Harry again. He held her close to him as he nodded. He understood what she was trying to say, most of it and he didn’t want to push her. He wasn’t even sure he wanted to know himself.
That motorcycle. Zayn’s idea of fun; Harry remembered when he got it.
(It was around three months back when Zayn pulled up into Harry’s drive way, a huge smile on his face and he took off his helmet; “Need a ride?” He had asked him and at the time, Harry smiled and grabbed the extra helmet, ready for a ride out in the town with his boyfriend.)
After his first time on a motorcycle, Harry wasn’t too sure about them. In fact; he hated them, not that Zayn wasn’t safe; he always was, never leaving without his helmet on. Always keeping the bike in mint condition, but Harry didn’t trust the bike itself or the other drivers out there; he was always scared something would happen to him while he was out. And his fear had come true.
He didn’t blame Zayn for this happening but part of him wished he never would have supported him buying one. Wished he never would have told that go for it because it was his life and he only got to do things once. Part of him felt and knew; this was his fault.
You could twist it and bend it in any way possible, but what would it help? All the signs pointed in Harry’s direction. Zayn got the motorcycle because Harry encouraged it all. Zayn ended up here because he was coming to see Harry. He felt horrible and he knew he wasn’t the only one to think this. From the glares and the looks Zayn’s dad was shooting his way; he felt the same. And all of a sudden, Harry wanted to run away and hide.
*
Three hours, forty-nine minutes later the doctors finally decided to give answer to everyone’s questions. They started things off slow, leading up to the dreadful news no one was prepared for. Zayn had a few broken ribs, a broken leg and small bruises and cuts all over his body. That Harry could take, that wasn’t as bad as Harry thought it would be. A few weeks of Zayn in the hospital are all it would be and everything would go back to normal. “But what we’re afraid to tell you is that, Zayn, is currently in a coma –“ The doctor said more, but Harry couldn’t hear him clearly. He felt like he was under water; only able to hear muffled voices as his breathing went slack.
“You may see him.” Those words left the doctors lips and Harrys eyes lifted up to scan him, to make sure what he thought he heard was true. “You can go after us, Harry.” Patricia sniffed as her and her husband rose and walked to Zayn’s room.
Harry just sat there, not saying a single thing. His boyfriend – his too-amazing-to-deserve-this boyfriend was lying in a hospital bed, unconscious and he didn’t know how long he would be like that; and that’s what dawned on Harry, what if he never got to hear Zayn’s voice again?
*
Harry shakily reached for the door knob. Zayn’s parents had come back a little over ten minutes ago and told Harry to go on ahead while they waited for the rest of their family to arrive. But Harry couldn’t bring himself to open the door; he just kept pacing and thinking. What was he about to walk in on? Zayn’s parent seemed calmer when they arrived back, maybe this would ease Harry’s worries, though he doubted it.
There Zayn was lying in a cold gray room with beeping noises all around him. He had tubes up his nose to help him to breath and even though the view brought tears to Harry’s eyes, Zayn looked so peaceful, like he was lost in a dream. His eye lids where glossy and his lips looked so plump and slightly dry and all Harry wanted to do was crawl in the bed next to him and never let him go but he couldn’t do that, scared he’d mess something up.
He instead walks to the side of the bed, his vision blurring as he gripped Zayn’s hand. “Zayn.” Harry croaked out in a whisper, his voice was raspy and filled with hurt. He felt so lost. “I’m sorry.” He spoke and leaned down, pressing his lips to Zayn’s forehead. “This is my entire fault, Zayn. I’m so sorry.” He whispered against his skin, the tears spilling over his eyes in silence as he rose to stare down at his boyfriend.
He ran a hand through Zayn use-to-be quiffed hair and sighed, closing his eyes and wishing, hoping Zayn would wake up right then and there. That he would open his eyes and see nothing but beautiful hazel starring him down. But that didn’t happen, no, when Harry opened his eyes Zayn stilled laid there.
*
Soft spot in the bed. Where you laid your head, but it’s cold now.
Harry had protested with Zayn’s mom, but only briefly not wanting to cause any trouble or more hurt. Even though he stayed the night, he wanted to continue staying at the hospital. To help watch over Zayn, he didn’t want to leave him there because even though his family would be there with him he still felt Zayn would be alone without him, like Harry was without Zayn.
He left though and walking back into his home was a feeling he hated.
After their movie nights, Harry would always wake up before Zayn, going down town and grabbing them a coffee and a very greasy breakfast. It was there lazy time, so Harry didn’t cook like usual; Zayn the one who decided on that; telling his boyfriend that he spoiled him too much on homemade treats.
But when he’d walk into the apartment, he would be greeted with kisses and a very loud, excited Zayn. They would laugh and talk over their so-called breakfast and after they’d crawl into Harry’s bed and snuggle. Only getting up when they really have to. To wrapped up in each other to care about the world. It was the day Harry looked forward to; it was the day Harry would miss.
He climbed the stairs slowly, leaning against his door frame as his eyes wandered over the still made-up bed. Memories flash in his mind.
(Zayn had this ridiculous shirt on and Harry couldn’t stop laughing, causing Zayn to pout and cross his arms over his chest. That only made Harry laugh more, but that was mainly because when you looked at Zayn, what you saw was a mysterious looking man with tattoos and quiff, a total bad boy. He rode a motorcycle for Christ’s sake! But that wasn’t Zayn. He wasn’t bad, he just had the image. He was so sweet, and nice and so understanding it hurt. “Can you stop laughing and just kiss me.” Zayn’s pout didn’t let up as he spoke and Harry couldn’t help himself. He kissed Zayn until they both fell asleep.)
Harry walked over to the side where Zayn slept, (close to the window, because the warm feeling of the sun shining on him in the morning was amazing) and touched the soft fabric of the bed spread. It was imprinted with Zayn’s body, Harry usually being the one cuddled into him. His pillows were worn and you could tell where Zayn’s head usually laid, and it was all too much.
*
And I drank all your gin. Wasting it’s a sin, you’d say without a doubt.
“Harry, let us in.” Liam pounded on Harry’s front door, waiting for an answer as Danielle and Niall waited behind him.
Harry hadn’t left the house since he came home that Thursday and even though it was only Sunday. Not seeing Harry for that long didn’t really make them worry. It was hard from him, they knew that, but not hearing from him was another thing. “I’m about to bust this damn door down!” Niall called out right when the door swung open.
“What!” Harry spat; he was drunk. In fact, that’s all he had been for two days now. Just piss drunk and he didn’t care. It didn’t matter, at that moment nothing mattered.
“Harry..” Danielle gasped; she had never seen him like this. It should have stayed that way, but things happen. “Dani! Haven’t seen you in a while. You look good, love the curls better.” Harry pointed wildly at Danielle’s hair, which was straight from her usual curly. Danielle touched her hair subconsciously and Liam made his way through the door, not waiting for a invite.
“Harry, look at yourself.” Liam said, disappointed and Niall leaned into Harry, sniffing. “Is that gin?” Niall asked, eyebrows rising. Harry wasn’t quite a drinker but if he ever did drink it was only a few beers, not being able to handle the hard stuff.
“It’s Zayn’s.” Harry told the group and the room went silent. Harry was drunk but his fuzzy mind remembered the time Zayn brought the gin home.
(“Ta da!” Zayn yelled as he held up the bottle of gin, letting himself into Harry’s home like he always did. Harry was sitting on his sofa, wearing his glasses as he read a new book he had bought. “What is that?” Harry questioned, confused. “Gin!” Zayn shouted and Harry grimaced. “I know you don’t drink much, but I got this for celebrations only.” Zayn had told him and Harry looked even more confused than before. “Celebrations?” Harry sat down his book and looked up at Zayn, who was smiling. “I got the job!” Zayn yelled and Harry sprung up to give his boyfriend a big hug. That night Harry had his first shot of gin.)
“Harry you need to stop this, you need to come to the hospital. The doctors are saying Zayn is doing much better. He’s been breathing on his own and moving a bit, responding to touches and such. He needs you.” Liam told Harry, placing a hand on his shoulder. Liam was always the smart one, always the one to put Harry in his place.
Harry’s eyes became watery again for what seemed to be the fourth time today. “I can’t look at him. I can’t. I’ve let him down, this is my entire fault.” Harry let out in a slur, his tear falling effortlessly onto his shirt. He was defeated, he was broken.
And soon he found himself being pulled into a group hug with the other three, them all saying encouraging words to him, telling him; “Everything was okay.” But he didn’t know for sure if that was true or not.
*
And I know I’m an echo..
It had been a week now and Harry had finally got the call he’d been waiting for. Zayn was awake. Nothing could explain his feelings as he hopped up and rushed to get down to the hospital to see his boyfriend again. To see those eyes and see that smile. To watch him as he laughed, to hear his voice to kiss him again god he couldn’t wait to kiss him again.
Ever since the day Liam, Danielle and Niall came and visited him he had been going back to the hospital every day in hopes of Zayn waking up. They were right. The tubes were gone and every now and again he would move suddenly and it sparks a bit of hope inside of Harry each time. He was there early in the morning and stayed late into night until the nurses finally kicked him out. And now it was time. He was getting his love back.
Walking into the hospital with the biggest smile on his face, dimples showing unashamed, Harry braced himself as he stood into front of the door, knocking softly before letting himself in Zayn’s eyes flew straight to him and that was enough to make his day completely perfect.
“Hey, Harry.” Zayn’s voice was rough, but it was what Harry needed to hear. Harry sighed and closed his eyes, relief filling his body. “Please tell me this isn’t a dream.” Harry thought he whispered but apparently Zayn heard him because next thing he knew Zayn’s laughter filled the room and that ache Harry had started to finally subside.
“No, not dreaming. Come here you bastard.” Zayn and Harry both laughed at that as Harry went to hug Zayn. God was that amazing. He had forgotten what the other boys body felt like. He could feel himself getting dizzy over the smell of Zayn. That sweet and tangy that he loved so much.
Harry looked at Zayn and he couldn’t stop himself from rubbing his thumb against Zayn cheek. The slight stubble he loved so much was there and she wanted to lean down and kiss him and tell him he loved him but before he could do such, Zayn gave him a slightly confused look.
“Harry, what the hell are you doing?” Zayn chuckled as he removed Harry’s hand. Harry was wearing the confused look now. “Well, I was going to kiss you – but if you’re too tired.” Harry said as he laced their fingers together. He was tired, he could understand that.
“Kiss me?!” Zayn practically yelled. “What?” Zayn asked as he started to laugh again. “Is Louis playing another trick on me? That asshole.” Zayn shook his head.
“Zayn, do you not –“ Harry was cut off by the door opening, Zayn’s mom coming into the room and stopping as her eyes landed on Harry. “Mom, get this. I just woke up and Louis is already playing a prank on me, he even got Harry in on it.” Zayn laughed again and Patricia looked at Harry with sad eyes.
“Harry, can I talk to you for a minute?” Patricia’s voice cut through the laughter as Harry followed her close out the door.
“What’s going on?” Harry asked as he looked at the door that led to Zayn’s room, his heart beating fast. His mind going blank; what did this mean?
“Sweetheart, I was going to tell you when you got here. Zayn he, he lost some of his memory.” Patricia looked down. “He remembers you, just not your relationship with him..” Her words trailed off and Harry stared in the distance. Zayn didn’t remember? He didn’t remember all the memories Harry had been reminiscing in the past few weeks?
“Can I talk to him, for a little I mean, alone?” Harry found himself asking. He wanted to try, to talk to Zayn about the two of them. See if he could remember, see if he could still find that look in his eye. “Sure sweetie.” Patricia replied as Harry found himself walking back into the room.
“Zayn.” Harry started. “Yeah bud?” Zayn smiled wide as Harry came and pulled a chair up beside Zayn’s bed, sitting and looking at him for a moment before he started to speak.
“Zayn I know you don’t remember..” Harry tried to find the words. “About us.” He bit his lip, holding back tears that decided to sneak up on him.
“Harry, you’re my best friend. I remember you.” Zayn rolled his eyes, murmuring something about how Harry worried too much.
“No Zayn. We, we’re together.” And those words made Zayn’s face turn serious.
“What?” Zayn spat and shit, this wasn’t the response Harry wanted. “We started dating seven months ago.” Harry told him and Zayn’s eyes seemed to look everywhere but at Harry.
“You should go.” Was all Zayn said and those three words broke Harry into a million pieces. He had been waiting all this time to see Zayn awake again only to have him forget about their relationship and tell him to leave? He didn’t know what he did to deserve this.
But he didn’t argue, even if he wanted to.
Time, that’s what Zayn needed and Harry was willing to give him that. He would remember one day, Harry was sure of it. A relationship like theirs wasn’t just forgotten. It was cherished and it would soon be remembered.
*
Of a man I used to love..
It had been a month of contacting and ignoring for Harry. He would try to contact Zayn or he family to talk to him, to see how he was but he never got an answer with Zayn and his parents just gave him a update. Telling him Zayn was busy trying to get his life back, trying to get his life back without Harry.
It hurt more than anything but Harry never let himself go, he kept holding on, keeping his head up even if he did cry himself to sleep at night. What hurt the most out of all of it was when Harry tried to hang out with Louis. Louis always had to be careful not to bring up Zayn in the conversation. It was clear they had been hanging out but Harry didn’t mind. He just wishes Zayn would talk to him. They didn’t have to be together, he just wanted to hear Zayn’s voice.
It was late in the evening and Harry was out for a walk, trying to get his mind off things as he always did when he walked past his and Zayn’s favorite diner. A place they had had many dates and loved to go to on Sundays. What he saw is what made his slowly repairing heart break yet again.
There was Zayn laughing at some joke apparently Louis was telling. Eleanor sitting beside Louis with his arm draped around her. Niall was there and he was scarfing down his food (and some of Liam’s as well) and there was Danielle and Liam and his entire friends were sitting at his and Zayn’s table, chatting and talking and here he was, alone.
That was the last day he walked that way, also being the last day he talked to those friends. It was clear that he wasn’t wanted anymore, that their life were fine and the same old without him. It was hell, letting all of them go but it was something he needed to do. Because Harry had broken way too much and being broke again could possibly kill him.
*
Even though that was long ago..
It had been around eight months now. Eight months since the accident, since the last time he saw Zayn and Harry was well, he was Harry.
Life didn’t get better but it didn’t get worse. He stayed in his house and tried to forget. He got a job at a bookstore and went to work there every day. He smiled to his customers and laughed like usual. He talked to everyone and helped whoever needed it.
He was living even if he was barely alive inside.
As he was stalking books he was called by his boss, who smiled at him and waved for him to come to him. His name was Nick, but Harry called him Grimmy and he was a funny guy, always flirting and he couldn’t ask for a better boss.
“Yes, chief?” Harry asked when he got to Grimmy, making the older male smile at him. “There is a guy up front asking for you to help him. He’s kind of cute if you ask me.” Grimmy wasn’t the type to put a label on love. If he could get it, he didn’t care what gender the person was. He was different, Harry liked that. His eyebrows pulled together as Grimmy said this though and his mind filled with questions. “Well, okay.” Harry said.
Who Harry saw when he got to the front of the store made his heart drop. There standing in a very familiar leather jacket was Zayn. His hair in the perfect quiff Harry adored and a small grin placed on his face. A part of him wanted to run, filling all the old emotions coming back and he stared at his ex. Another part of him wanted to grab Zayn and hug him as tight as possible.
“Harry?” Zayn asked as he walked closer to Harry, “I hope you don’t mind. I found out where you were working. I needed to talk to you.” Zayn’s words made Harry’s heart stop. Could he do this? He doubted it. Just being this close to Zayn was making him weak. But despite all of this he found himself telling Zayn “Okay.”
Grimmy, being the great guy he is, let Harry take the rest of the day off (It wasn’t like they were getting much business this certain day anyway) and Zayn and Harry went to a small café down the street.
“I’ve been meaning to come by, just haven’t got the courage.” Zayn said after their drinks were ordered. Harry stared at him; he still believed this was a dream. “Doesn’t matter, you’re here now.” Harry spoke, and he meant it because god had he missed this.
Zayn smiled fondly at that and Harry felt his heart jump at that. “I’ve been talking to the guys – my parents, everyone about. Well, about us.” Zayn started slowly as if he was afraid of the subject. “I don’t remember still, and I’m sorry I don’t. But from what I heard, we were pretty damn perfect weren’t we?” Zayn’s eyes flickered up to Harry’s and Harry could feel himself blush a small “Yeah” coming from his mouth as he sat up straight.
“I was thinking if you weren’t seeing anyone. Maybe we could, I don’t know. Try again?” And that was all Harry needed to hear before he broke out into one of his famous smiles. Dimples and all, he didn’t even have to think twice before his answer was given.
“Yes.”
And so the boys sat there, with big smiles on their faces as they caught up with each other. Harry not being able to believe what had happened to him, but you know what they say, if its true love it will always find its way back. Plus, Zayn was Harry’s everything, even after all this time. After all He’s all he was made up of.