Destructive Love (Zarry)

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven

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Harry had always been a sensitive person. It had never been something that he felt ashamed of. If he was happy, he would smile. If he was sad, he would cry. It was just the way he was and he didn't feel the need to hide it. He was a believer and advocate of and for self-expression.

Even then, he barely managed to contain the sadness and disbelief from spilling out of him as the tears leaked down his cheeks with his head cupped in his calloused hands, saltwater dribbled down the sides of them and soaked his palms.

The over-read letter sat on the dark wood of the table in front of him, creased and laced with the type of apologetic, sorrowful, mechanical words that only an insurance company could provide.

The harsh slamming of a door could be heard before an uncharacteristically sober Zayn walked into the apartment. A passive expression rested on his marble face.

He paused in the doorway of the kitchen, catching a glimpse of Harry. Harry thought he saw a flicker of surprise in his eyes before any trace of emotion vanished once more.

His eyes landed on the dusty letter.

A stormy look flashed in his eyes and suddenly he was marching toward Harry angrily, like a charging bull ready to attack. He snatched the letter off the table aggressively, startling Harry.

"What are you doing with this?!" He screamed, furiously. He looked almost like he was about to burst.

Astonishment filled Harry at his reaction.

"I-I found it in the pile with bills." He stuttered slightly, still shocked.

Zayn's expression was as hard as stone.

"Well next time to don't get just stick your nose where it doesn't belong." He snapped. He turned around, letter still clutched in his fist, storming toward the door again.

Like a bolt of lightning, pain zapped through Harry's chest and struck his heart at his Zayn's cruel words.

"Why didn't you tell me?!" Harry cried, standing from his seat.

Zayn froze.

His whole body was tensed. He didn't turn around when he uttered his next words in a low, dangerous tone.

"I didn't tell you because it's none of your business."

If his previous words had hurt Harry, these ones felt as though he had just ripped Harry's heart out and fed it to a pack of rabid wolves.

"Of course it's my business," Harry spoke brokenly, "I-I'm your partner. I need to know about things as important as this. I need to know when something like this happens so I can be there for you. Zayn, your family is dead..."

The last part had come out as a whisper. But Zayn had heard it just as clearly as if he had shouted it. Harry knew this because he had gone still. Eerily still.

The silence hung like a weight in the room. The tense atmosphere making it difficult to breathe.

"Stay out of my business. I don't need nor do I want your 'support'."

Zayn stormed out the room as he collapsed into a pile of pain.

Harry broke.

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