Soon {Zarry}

Thirty-three Ideas

"What? Knocking. . . ? Who could it possibly be all the way out here?"

". . ."

". . . Louis?"

"Hiya."

". . ."

"Nice to see you again-"

"Zayn isn't here."

"I know, Harold. I came to keep you company while Zayn is busy."

"He didn't trust me to be alone? That bastard. I don't need you to babysit me; it's my first day he-"

"Woah, woah, I'm not here to babysit you. Zayn doesn't even know I'm here; I just wanted to get to know you. He talks about you a lot, so I wanted to see what all the fuss is about."

"Oh. . . well, come in then."

"Phew, was beginnin' to think you'd just slam the door in my face."

"The thought was tempting."

"How much has Zayn told you about me?"

"Hmm, not much. Heh, just that you are annoying and impossible to get rid of."

"That sounds like him. . ."

"Would you like something to drink. . . or eat?"

"Didn't peg you as the housewife type."

"It's called being polite."

"Uh huh. Anyway, I'll take a cup of tea, two sugars and a bit of milk if you please."

". . . There's Earl Grey and English Breakfast."

". . . Breakfast tea"

". . ."

". . ."

"So tell me, what do you and Zayn do together in the city?"

"Not much. Can't go out with his face plastered everywhere. Although, he manages somehow, and I mostly help clean up after he's done."

"Why?"

"Comes with being a sicko, helping your fellows get away with fucked up deeds. It's a mutual thing; he helps me clean up my mess."

"Your mess?"

"Tsk, what's with all the questions? Ah, I almost forgot you're a psychiatrist. . . hmm, so does that mean I am recieving a psychoanalysis?"

"No. I just like to pry, especially around people who could kill me."

"In that case, my mess is kidnap, torture, and killing, specifically in that order."

". . ."

". . ."

". . ."

"Was that too much?"

"Yes and no. If I were anyone else, or in any other situation, I'd find it hard to keep calm. Now, I just feel desensitized to the shock and fear."

". . ."

". . ."

". . ."

"Here."

"Thanks. . . Mm, tastes good."

". . ."

". . ."

"So. . ."

". . ."

"Wh-

"Do you really care about Zayn?"

"Huh. . .? Yes, I do. Why-"

"Would you leave if you had the chance?"

". . . why are you asking this?"

"I asked first."

"I-I, no. I don't think so."

"Strange. . . why?"

"That's a hard question to ask, but I can only think of it as being part of Stockholm Syndrome. There's no real reason tying me here, except for the way I feel about him. And the fear that I can never truly escape."

"That doesn't sound like you're unsure then."

"Because how do you know it's the syndrome and not some fucked-up part of you that finds humanity in a pyschopath? You don't know until you leave them, and I want to know. But I don't want to leave, not now anyway."

"So strange. . ."

"Would you quIT MUMBLING THAT TO YOURSELF? I'm not strange!"

"Well, it's just that- who even thinks of that kinda stuff? Who cares about why you feel that way? Just embrace it! Overthinking that kind of thing just leads to problems. Zayn started to do that, and not even Liam could stop him from getting into trouble. It's the overthinking and anxiety that fucks up your life. Just go with the flow."

"I'll admit overthinking is terrible, but I'm  not overthinking this! Reflecting on your thoughts, especially in a situation such as mine, is imper- wait, who's Liam?"

"Uh, wha- who? Liam? Where'd that come from?"

"You; It came from you. What does Liam have to do with Zayn and his supposed trouble?"

". . . Look, Zayn would kill me if he found out I even hinted at his name in your near vicinity."

"I won't tell him."

"Don't even mention the name Liam, okay? No Liam Neeson, no Liam Hemsworth - even Chris Hemsworth might be too close."

"Okay, okay, I get it. Now tell me."

"You know how Zayn is all obsessed with you?"

"Yeah. . ."

"Well, Harold, that is nothing compared to Liam's obsession with Zayn. I doubt he feels the same way Zayn does with you, but his feelings are just as intense if not more. He's insanely rich, hence why Zayn and I haven't been caught - well, I haven't been caught, Zayn served himself on a silver platter to the iron fists of justice - and he's not afraid to spend a pretty penny trying to find said idiot. I'll say this once and only once: when you meet Liam, which I hope for your sake you don't, but I know him, so it's a matter of 'when' not 'if', never leave Zayn's side."

"Why?"

"I've already said too much. In fact, I should probably head back. Zayn'll get suspicious if I'm gone too long."

"Oh, okay. Thanks for coming by, I guess."

"Thanks for not slamming the door in my face. Bye, Harold."

"Goodbye, and it's Harry."

"I know."