Reason To Be (A Zouis Family AU)

Part Four, Chapter Two

The moment Harry closes the door to their dorm, he continues to hold his breath for another few seconds before the yelling starts again.

"You called your fucking Dad over here? What the fuck, Haz?" Brad demands from the kitchen area.

He winces, heart slamming against his ribs inside his chest before he turns to face the nineteen year old. Brad looks beyond mad now, and he hates himself for wishing that his Dad had just never shown up because now it's only going to propel the fight they'd already been having - and Harry isn't even sure why they were fighting in the first place, just that Brad had been angry since he came back from class yesterday and had taken his phone off of him and refused to give it back yet again.

"I didn't call him over here. You've got my phone," he states, managing to keep his voice surprisingly calm in comparison to the staccato rhythm playing in his chest with every short breath.

He hates being yelled out. Hates any sort of confrontation really, but yelling in particular. He always has - because even though he doesn't remember much about life before he and Ni were adopted by Dad and Papa, the scars are still there deep inside, and they open like fresh wounds every time Brad loses it with him.

"Don't get fuckin' smart. You're a sneak, there's probably a shit tonne that you're not telling me, so don't start playing innocent," Brad spits, slamming a fist down heavily on the counter in a way that makes him flinch, breath catching in his throat.

The other boy is taller than even him and stockier too. He's got muscles that Harry doesn't possess on his stringy limbs, his facial features capable of darkening in a way that Harry's have never been able to.

Right now, Brad's features are beyond dark, and he doesn't dare do anything to purposely make his temper raise more.

"Brad, I'm not innocent, okay? I know. I'm sorry," he forces out, keeping his voice soft and doing everything he can to try and calm the situation.

He doesn't know what he's done to deserve the fight this time, but he knows it must be something.

Thankfully, Brad doesn't yell anymore than that, just shaking his head and muttering a 'whatever' before he storms out of the dorm and lets the door slam shut behind him.

The silence that follows is defeating.
Harry counts his breaths and clenches his hands by his sides, uncurling them again and then repeating the process until his palms grow less clammy and his heart slows down. When Brad storms out, he does it out of love - he knows that much because he's been told so before. He leaves to stop the fight from getting worse, louder. Then he comes home and they make up.

He realises that Brad has taken his phone with him out of the apartment, wincing a little and letting out a breath. He hasn't called Niall in a while, and he hates himself for making his kid brother worry. He knows how much Niall relies on him when he's having a bad time, and he feels like he's letting him down too.

Hence why he bought a cheap flip phone the last time Brad had taken his phone off of him when he'd thought he was using it to text another guy. He obviously hadn't been, he would never - he's loved Brad since they were sixteen, he doesn't want anyone else - but he had kept the phone knowing that his boyfriend would probably get paranoid again and he would need a way to be able to contact his family when that happens.

He goes into the room he shares with Brad and pulls the rucksack he uses for uni out from the closet, reaching into the side pocket and tugging the phone out.

Immediately, he's greeted with a tonne of notifications. A bunch of missed calls from a guy in his class that he'd been sharing notes with, twelve texts from Liam consisting of photos of Gracie that make him smile despite the anxiety left over in his chest from the fight - he'd already texted Liam the other number, just telling him he's got a new sim and giving no more information.