Dark Star

Chapter 19: Unspoken Goodbyes

Harry Styles

I blinked at the sound of Niall’s voice.

“Harry,” he said, shaking my shoulders lightly. “Get up, mate.”

I groaned, pulling myself up so that I was sitting upright on the couch. I rubbed my eyes and gently pushed Niall away so that I could stand up beside him.

“What time is it?” I asked in a sleepy voice while I stretched.

“It’s about six,” he said casually.

“Niall, our flight is at nine.” I growled. “Why are we awake at six?”

“Because I wanted to show you something,” he said quietly, frowning.

“Oh,” I said a little surprised. “What is it, mate?”

“C’mon, lad,” he said, beginning to walk away and waving me after him.

We walked toward the main balcony’s door, much to my surprise, and he turned to face me before opening it. His eyes were sorrowful.

“Harry, don’t get sad at what you see,” he said. “I didn’t know who else to wake. I know you care about Zayn as much as I do so… I chose you.”

“Niall, what the hell are you saying?”

“You know how I love watching the sunrise sometimes, right?" he asked, not bothering to wait for a response. "Well, this morning, I went out to the balcony to watch it and...." he sighed, trailing off. “Just keep quiet and follow me.”

I nodded in confusion, barely sensible enough to process what could be going on. I walked out into the sunrise-lit sky after Niall, and my eyes flew to someone sleeping on the loveseat.

It was Zayn.

“Why’s he sleeping outside?” I whispered to Niall.

“That’s not what you had to see, idiot,” Niall rolled his eyes and continued walking toward Zayn’s unconscious body. He was snoring lightly, his chest heaving with each breath.

“This is.” Niall carefully grabbed a sketchbook placed beside Zayn’s body, and he held it up for me to see.

It was a drawing. A fantastic one, at that.

The sketch was of Zayn, just his face staring back at me. The pencil strokes were neat, like it’d taken a very long time to make those lines. Whoever had done it… it had been important to them.

The answer was obvious.

“So, Lola drew him a picture,” I sighed angrily. “Who cares?”

“Not just a picture,” Niall frowned. He flipped the page over, and on the backside, there was a neatly-scripted letter.

“Read it,” he whispered.

I took the sketchbook from his hands cautiously and began reading the note:

Zayn,

I knew you wouldn’t let me leave if I stayed behind until the very last minute. So I stayed up after you slept and sketched you that picture, along with this note I left behind. By the time you read this, considering the fact that it’s around four at the moment, I’ll be home. Or at the hospital.

Don’t come after me. Your career is what matters. I love you.

Give my regards to Harry, Niall, Liam, Eleanor and Louis as well. And apologize to Simon for me, please. Good luck with the rest of the tour. I’ll keep in touch soon, I promise.