Your Creation • Zarry

57. Roses

April 2017

I left BBC Radio 1 in London early that morning after Grimmie played my new single for the first time ever while waves of excitement soared through me. I described it like giving birth to something that I had been holding onto for so long and now everyone had heard "Sign of the Times," which was a very personal song that I was especially proud of.

I went for a jog after its release, stopping to check my phone every now and then to see what the fan's reactions were to the song and so far it seemed like I had "broken the internet," as they called it and I felt happy.

When I returned from my jog and made my way inside my house in London, Zayn rung me and when I picked up the call all I heard was my song playing on the other end.

"We never learn we've been here before. Why are we always stuck and running from the bullets? The bullets? Just stop your crying it's a sign of the times. We gotta get away from here, we gotta get away from here..."

"What song is that? It's shit," I said.

"I don't know I just heard it on the radio but I think it's quite good," Zayn replied, turning down the music in the background.

I smiled.

"Only you would debut your first single with an long, intense ballad," Zayn added. "But the real question is, will we ever learn?"

"Apparently not," I answered, chuckling.

"I also noticed something else," said Zayn.

"Oh yeah? And what's that?"

"Your new ring."

"What about it?"

"Looks familiar."

"Does it?" I asked, smirking to myself.

"I have one just like it. Exactly like it, in fact..."

"Interesting. Where'd you get it from?"

"Someone bought it for me once."

"That person has good taste..."

February 13, 2014

I hadn't seen Zayn in what felt like ages. That winter was a difficult one for us, one that had resulted in a few too many arguments and some petty behaviors.

After my first "date" with Kendall grabbed the headlines that Modest wanted, her and I became friends and started hanging out whenever Zayn was off with Perrie and it had become a little flirty, I'll admit. Zayn had told me that he understood that our situation was complicated and since there was no way that we could ever be exclusive, he and I made a pact that we just weren't going to talk about whoever and whatever we were doing when we weren't together, but it was still hard for both of us and I think that it was much harder for Zayn than I thought.

Perrie took Zayn to Disneyland for his birthday that January and it pained me to see him there with her. I wished I could have taken him instead, and he looked so happy, and sometimes I wondered if he actually was or if he was faking it and it made me sick, so I decided to go on a ski trip with Kendall because I couldn't stand feeling alone, which was when me and Zayn's relationship started to feel like a game, like we were only on when there was tour but when it ended, we were apart and I was starting to really hate it because that's when we started questioning each other.

But love should have never been the question with us and sometimes you have to learn this the hard way. For us, love was not synonymous with monogamy. Love was not easy and it didn't always make sense. Love was hard, but the only real love that was ever worth having to me was the kind that conquered all. Truth is, no matter who I spent time with, the space in my heart only belonged to one person and that was Zayn Malik.

I returned from holiday with my family to celebrate my 20th birthday and had enough of not seeing Zayn. It really hadn't been that long, but even a month felt like an eternity then, so I decided to pop round his house the day before Valentine's Day.

When he opened the door I ran toward him, toppling him over completely just like those clips you see of dogs going nuts when their owners come back from war.

"Well hello to you too," Zayn said, his voice muffled into my chest as I sprawled myself on top of him on the ground.

"It's been 84 years," I responded, mimicking that quote from Rose in the film Titanic.

He laughed and shoved me off of him. Once we got back on our feet I made my way to the couch and sat him down, pulling out a box from my jacket pocket.

"I got you something," I said, handing the little black box to him.

I watched as Zayn opened the box carefully, revealing a silver rose ring with leaves on the band.

"I love it," Zayn said, smiling at me.

"I love you."

I watched as he put it on on his fore finger and it fit perfectly. I hadn't bought him any jewelry before but this ring had been calling to me for awhile.

Last fall I had gotten a rose tattooed on my arm after reading "A Rose for Emily" by William Faulkner, which was from a book that Zayn had lent me and I really liked it for some reason, even though it was slightly morbid, but that was sort of my preferred genre. And I remembered that when we were in New Zealand Zayn told me how flowers were used to represent sexuality in art and one night we stayed up late and I watched him as he drew this picture of us in graphite pencils and it turned out like two genderless souls just covered in roses.

We had a lot of interesting conversations about stuff like this, actually. Zayn and I would talk about flowers, art, urban legends, books, sexuality, music, films, history, symbolism and Zayn was just so intelligent and so very interested in learning about different things that he shared all of this knowledge with me and we started attaching these different symbols to our relationship, like some secret language only we would understand. He was the most inspiring person I knew.

*

"I still think about us whenever I see roses," Zayn's voice rang out from the other end of the phone.

I smiled, feeling myself grow warmer.

"It's my way of like...carrying you around with me, is that weird?" I asked.

"No, it's not weird, it's thoughtful."

"I miss you," I replied, fiddling with the identical rose ring to his that was on my finger as I leaned idly against the wall, holding onto every word he said.

"I miss you too, Harry."

I wanted to ask Zayn what we were doing, how long were we planning on doing this for, if this was ever going to go anywhere, if he was still in love with me, if he loved Gigi just the same. I wanted answers to all my questions but I was afraid to ask them, afraid of what he'd say, afraid that he'd run away from me after years of being apart, and I just wasn't willing to take that risk.

"I'll be back in New York again soon."

"Just let me know and I'll find a way to see you," he responded.

"Alright."

And after we both hung up the phone I went upstairs to look for that picture Zayn drew of us years ago and I found it tucked away behind a bunch of other things in the corner of my record room, then I searched for a thumbtack and proceeded to hang it up on the wall.