Five

She hissed in pain as he took her hand softly into his, his fingertips careful not to press into her flesh. He frowned, his teeth tugging his bottom lip into his mouth as he carefully assessed the damage. He sighed, his hand grabbing for the peroxide. She winced just looking at it. “Oh no,” Farrah whispered, closing her eyes and hanging her head.

“C’mon, Farrah, you’ve got to let me do this,” he murmured softly. His free hand set the bottle down and went to her cheek, tilting her head back up. “Are you okay?” She leaned into his palm and breathed out slowly, nodding her head.

“Yeah… Yeah, I’m alright. I just…” she sighed, glancing slowly up and meeting his eyes. They were brewing with emotion, concern painted over them as he tried to read her. She managed a weak smile. “This all just threw me for a loop, is all.” He mirrored her sad smile, slowly nodding his head and pulling his hand back from her cheek.

“I can understand that…” he whispered, turning to her hand and lifting the peroxide once again. “Now, take a deep breath.” She bit down as hard as she could as he tipped the bottle, the alcohol running over the small cuts the harsh stucco had left in her skin and searing what was underneath. She whimpered, burying her face into her elbow.

“Sh-Shit…” she mumbled, trying to hold back tears as the pain throbbed achingly. She felt him carefully nursing the rest of her hand, his fingertips gentle as they slowly wrapped a bandage around her knuckles. “Thank you, Harry.” Her voice was muffled by her elbow, but he heard her.

He stopped what he was doing to stare at her. He let a gulp trail down his throat as he watched her fighting the urge to crumble. He wanted to do something, anything, to bring her back - so much of him was sure she would leave.

Now that they were broken apart, now that Zayn had gone and left them to pick up the pieces… Would Fanny stay? Would their Fanny stay, despite how different it would all be? No, he was sure of it. She wouldn’t want to. It wasn’t the same, they all knew that.

And so he stared at her, trying to memorize the moment. Knowing that it’d be gone soon and he’d be relying on his memories to replay it through his mind.

“S’what I’m here for,” he finally replied, his voice soft and quiet as he set her now bandaged hand onto the ice he’d brought for her. The ice was in a baggie, wrapped with a towel, and would bring down the swelling in her hand. She slowly brought her face out of her elbow, turning to meet his eyes once more.

“He said it would be okay, you know,” she mumbled. Her voice was filled with false hope. “Maybe we can change his mind, Har.” He bit into his bottom lip, wanting nothing more than to believe her, as his arms softly slid around her waist, his body moving forward to pull her into his chest and her head immediately finding the crook of his neck. “We can get him back, I know we can,” she mumbled into his skin, closing her eyes tightly. He sighed shakily and closed his eyes, letting his face burrow into her hair as he held her close.

“He’s got a lot going on in his head right now, Avey…” he whispered into her hair, tightening his arms around her waist. She swallowed hard at the nickname, one he’d taken from her middle name. He was the only one that insisted on calling her that. “I just…”

“Why can’t we try…?” she whispered softly. She inhaled deeply, memorizing the way he smelled, the way it felt to be so close to him. They didn’t get to be this close very often. There were reasons for it that were beyond them, and they’d both accepted it… but it didn’t make them cherish these moments any less.

He bit his lip, hard, soaking in her warmth as he mumbled, “What can we do?” Reluctantly, with her arms still loosely wrapped around his neck, she pulled her body back from his chest, still close as she looked up into his eyes. They still amazed her, made butterflies fill her stomach when she looked into them.

“If we talk to him, just the two of us… Just really talk to him. Maybe we can get through to him? You know, once he’s with Perrie, and he’s calmed down?” Harry’s eyes ran over her face, thinking and pondering. The boys had tried, it’d been months. Most of him knew it wasn’t going to happen - but the determined voice in his head said, you have to try. No matter how many meetings and conversations the band had had together, there was a chance that finally being at home with Perrie would help him find some clarity.

Maybe Farrah could be right about this.

Harry’s concentration face, one that Farrah had always loved, slowly melted into one of curiosity and perhaps even some hope. He nodded his head and reached up, tucking some hair behind her head. “Okay,” he said.

“...Okay?” she asked, smiling softly up at him. She was filled with that swelling sense of hope. Maybe they could make this work.

“But first, you need to rest. He won’t be off of his plane for several hours anyway.” She sunk a bit at that, feeling only a little defeated. She glanced down at her lap, before slowly nodding.

“Okay… That’s fair enough,” she murmured. She leant up, pressing a soft, chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth. “I don’t know what I would do without you, Harry.” He swallowed hard at that and bent down just a tad, turning his body and slipping his arm beneath the backs of her knees. She squeaked softly, giggling as he lifted her effortlessly into his arms and carried her from her bathroom.

“Believe me, Avey, we’d be nowhere without you.” He paused, staring down at her as he slowly laid her into her bed and shifted the covers from underneath her. She watched him silently, sinking comfortably into the mattress as he tugged the blanket up over her, just as she’d done for Niall only a little while ago. Harry’s incredible green eyes stared into her eyes as he chose his next words carefully. “I’d be nowhere without you…” She took in a small breath, everything freezing for just a moment. His tone both warmed her and scared her. He sounded like he half believed she’d be going somewhere.

She reached up with her uninjured hand, taking his wrist between her fingers. “I hope you know I’m not going anywhere,” she mumbled quietly. “No matter what happens, you boys are a part of my story, and I am a part of yours. That doesn’t change, and I am far too busy trying to keep up with you to go anywhere else.”

He chuckled softly at her words, ducking his head and reaching up to push back his mess of long, chestnut hair. It was beginning to get unruly, and for some reason, that was Farrah’s favorite part about it.

“It’s a scary lot of what-ifs these days, Avery.” With those words, Harry lifted his head and crawled his way over her, tiredly letting his body collapse beside her into the bed. Farrah watched him fondly and turned onto her side, wrapping one arm around his waist and resting her chest into his back. She didn’t mind his hair in her face or how impossibly warm they were, pressed together that way; she could feel him smiling and sunk into the embrace.

His hand rested on top of hers and the two drifted into an impatient, spoon-filled sleep, their fingers never untwining.

It was two hours, two warm, emotionally exhausted hours, before the pair were brought from their sleep by a tentative knock on the hotel room door. Farrah groaned quietly and furrowed her brows, nuzzling further into the back of Harry’s neck and refusing to open her eyes.

Being more used to having to wake up this way than Fanny was, Harry stirred almost immediately, his tired, purple-rung eyes flitting open and his tongue darting out to wet his dry lips. He took only a moment to call a soft, “Yeah?” in the direction of the door, hoping he wouldn’t have to get up.

“Harry, sound check is in thirty. Paul’s really wanting you guys to come as soon as you can, he says he wants to be extra sure.” Harry only picked up half of Jimmy’s muffled rambling through the door, but got the major points and let out a heavy sigh. Though he’d needed the rest, it’d gone quicker than he’d been hoping for.

“Alright,” he mumbled groggily, “Tell Paul I’ll be down in thirty, then.” Farrah whined softly into his neck and hair, tightening her arm around his middle and willing the clock to stop for a few days.

Jimmy replied with a thank you and hurried off, and the two were left in the quiet of Harry’s hotel room once again. Harry sighed slowly and bit his lip, blinking his eyes in an attempt to wake up further. “Avey,” he spoke. He let his thumb softly run over the back of her hand, his lungs pulling in a slow, deep breath.

“Can’t.. believe you guys are having to play, without ‘im tonight…” was all she could say through her sleep-ridden voice, sinking into Harry’s back and squeezing her eyes shut tighter.

“We can’t let everyone down, Avey.” Harry glanced down at their hands resting over his middle and squeezed hers, admiring how her small fingers fit between his long ones. The two hands were made to hold each other, he thought to himself. “Come on, I’ve only got half an hour… Let’s call him before I go.”

Farrah nodded and sighed softly, kissing the back of his head and rolling reluctantly away from him, their hands disconnecting in the process. He sat himself up and stood to his feet, groaning through a stretch. Their eyes met as he stretched, and Farrah’s lips pulled into a small smile. Some things never changed, she thought to herself, watching his lanky form finish stretching and come back to normal height. Every so often, she could see the 16 year old boy in him that she’d first met at X-Factor; and it never failed to bring a grin to her lips. Harry was still Harry, and that was a beautiful thing.

For a moment, as Harry went to grab his laptop, Farrah sat up and thought about the boys. All five of them. Just like Harry, they all still had that first version of themselves deep down inside. Covered up, maybe, by coping with the changes and the fame and the way they lived their lives day in and day out - but Louis was still Louis, and Liam was still Liam. Niall was the same Irish jokester with a guitar and Zayn still didn’t want to do any silly dance moves.

She wanted to tell him, Zayn, these things, she wanted to give him the hope she was suddenly feeling. And as Harry brought the laptop to the bed, Farrah knew it was her chance to make him see what she could.

“C’mon, then,” Harry smiled, clambering onto the bed and sliding behind her, “Let’s call ‘em.” A moment later, Farrah had FaceTime dialling Zayn’s number, Harry’s arms wrapped securely around her waist as she leaned comfortably back into him.

She bit her lip as it rung, huffed as it said it was “connecting”.

And then, “Hello?” Farrah took a sharp breath and smiled nervously down at him.

“How was your flight?” she asked softly, completely skipping over a proper hello and how are you. He’d only just gone. He looked knackered on the other end, his hair hanging in strings over his forehead until his hand came up to push it back.

“It was good, yeah,” he cleared his throat, “Very quiet.”

Farrah nodded her head slowly and sighed, her heart calming at the feeling of Harry’s fingers running back and forth over her stomach. “We miss you already,” she said quietly, honesty in her eyes. “It’s only been half a day and we already miss you so much.”

Harry sighed into her hair, closing his eyes and wincing as he rested his forehead to her shoulder.

“I miss you, too. More than you know, Fanny.” She didn’t even have to think, her words fell from her mouth without permission.

“Then come back,” she spoke, “Come back, and help us help you figure this out.” She felt the arms around her squeeze; they were both nervous.

“Fanny, come on, you know I can’t do that,” he mumbled, “I only just left this morning.”

“So?” she questioned, “Missing a couple of shows to come back to yourself is a hell of a lot better than leaving, Zayn. I mean, don’t you feel like this was all a bit rash? Don’t you feel rushed, don’t you feel scattered?”

“Yeah, of course I do, but it’s not like I just randomly decided this, Farrah, I’ve been thi-”

“Yeah, I know, thinking about it for months, you told me before you left. I know, Zayn, but did you think about the boys? About the band?”

“Avey,” the deep voice behind her warned softly, muffled by her shoulder.

“No, I’m serious,” she retorted, indignant and determined, “This is bigger than you just, not wanting to dance, or having to justify your career by telling people you’re in a ‘cool boyband’. This cannot just be about wanting to be ‘cool’ in the eyes of the public. This is about the lives of your four closest friends, the longevity of your career, the feelings of a whole hell of a lot of people who care about you and deserve more than a wave and a ‘see ya later’!”

“Damnit, Farrah, it’s not like that and you know it!”

“Do I?!”

“Yes! I care about everyone more than you’re giving me credit for, but I just don’t know how to deal with this, the press and the-”

“You are not the only one that has bad stories written about him in the press, Zayn!” Farrah blurted, her hand suddenly wrapped around Harry’s wrist and clutching to him. “You’re not the only one who’s had relationships ruined because of the fucking paparazzi.” Her voice cracked on her words and her head hung.

“Avery, take a deep breath,” Harry mumbled, his head lifting from her shoulder and his eyes finding Zayn on the laptop screen.

Zayn had both of his hands pressed over his face, stress clearly taking over. He began mumbling into his hands and Harry frowned, trying to pick up his words. “...Pez and I were feelin’ the stress and no matter what I did, I couldn’t make being out there okay. I couldn’t…” He lifted his face from his hands and there were tears in his eyes, meeting the camera and praying Farrah could really hear him, hear how difficult this all was.

“Every night was harder than the last, I would go to bed and just stare at the wall in that stupid bunk and tell myself, just one more month. And her visits would last a day, three days, tops, and then she’d go back, and then I’d be tellin’ myself, eighty-three days. Home in eighty-three days. And I could hear the lads havin’ the time of their lives and I was sittin’ in the back just trying to get up the smiles so I could go have a laugh and make it all better.”

Farrah felt her heart breaking as she watched Zayn’s words spill from his lips. Harry was stuck in the frown; he’d heard this just a couple of days ago, and it didn’t hurt any less to see one of his closest friends in so much turmoil.

“Zayn, I didn’t mean…” she sucked in a breath and tried to calm down, tucking some of her hair back behind her ear.

“I know you didn’t, Fanny, it’s okay,” he muttered, trying to manage a smile at her. “I just… I want my life to be different, you know? I want to be at home when Pez is, I want to see my family more than a couple months out of the year. We’re gonna be married soon, maybe within the year, two at the most, and… I miss her.” He paused. “I just. want. some normalcy…”

Farrah sunk in Harry’s arms, her bottom lip quivering as she realized she wasn’t going to get him to come back, and Harry immediately could feel it, his hold around her tightening as he mumbled, “Zayn, she needs to know you’re here, she needs to know this doesn’t mean the end of everything.” His voice was so thick with exhaustion and now he was the one having to be strong for someone else.

“Of course it doesn’t, Farrah, I’m here, we’ll always be friends, and-”

Zayn was cut off by the front door opening and slamming shut. “Alright, is my man ready to make a fucking killer album?!” The voice was foreign to Farrah, and she felt her heart drop watching an unfamiliar man with a wide grin and untrustworthy eyes step into the camera’s narrow frame. Zayn immediately closed his eyes in shame and turned his head away from the man, and that was the moment Farrah - who had only a moment ago wanted to forgive the whole thing and maybe figure out how to deal with it - felt everything crashing.

“Just want some normalcy, eh?” she questioned with a wavering voice, watching as he went to protest, beg for her to listen, for her to see what was going on, only to be silenced by the laptop closing over him.

“Hey,” Harry spoke softly as she started to cry, his frown deepening and his body curling around hers, “It’s gonna be okay. The band’s gonna be fine, I promise.” He tried to get her to hear him but she was just leaning forward and letting the crying take over.

Harry’s arms held her close but he felt her distancing, and he was terrified that exactly what he’d expected was happening - she was going to leave them behind one of these days, and it was Zayn’s goddamn fault.

“Shh, Avey baby, it’ll be alright,” he assured her over and over again. “I promise, it’ll be alright.”

But he didn’t know.