The next time Harry and Louis saw each other, they were sat in their usual places in the lecture hall, their professor talking about something that Louis wasn't paying attention to. They were going to be given an envelope containing the results of last terms exams, and Louis was worried that he hadn't prepared enough. Harry was busy writing things down in his notebook, and Louis knew that he would have to copy whatever it was at a later date.
"And that concludes the end of today's lesson. If you could all collect your results from the table on your way out that would be appreciated. If you have any questions, you can either wait until our next class, send me an email, or see me in my office. Have a good day, everyone!" With that Louis stuffed his things into his bag and stood up, waiting for Harry to make his way across the row of seats. They didn't say anything as they picked up their envelopes, walking in apprehensive silence until they reached the safety of the carpark.
"Are you ready?" Harry asked, his voice shaking slightly. Louis nodded, his trembling fingers gripping onto the brown envelope. There were two exams in there, the one he took the day Zayn died, and the one Harry helped him prepare for. "Three, two, one," Harry counted, both boys ripping into the paper at the same time. They each stared at the words, taking it all in.
"How did you do?" Louis croaked, the tears beginning to fill his eyes as he stared at the page.
"I passed both, 74% and 71%, you?" That was when he looked over at Louis, concern rushing through his body when saw the tears in Louis' eyes. "Hey, hey, it's okay, whatever, um, whatever's happened it's all okay," Harry reassured him, his hand resting on Louis' thigh for comfort.
"I... I... I passed. 68 and 60, but I passed!" Louis cried, tears of happiness spilling down his cheeks.
"You did it, Lou, I'm so proud of you!" Harry smiled, "And I know, um, I know Zayn would be so proud of you, too!"
"No, Harry, we did it. Without you, I'd be getting thrown off the course by now, I owe you," Louis said, pulling Harry in for a hug. They drove to the café to celebrate, Louis ordering his and Harry's drinks as they spent the rest of the afternoon enjoying each other's company.
Harry and Louis went on another date the next week, Louis taking Harry bowling and out for dinner. They held hands as they ate in the restaurant, laughing and smiling as they complimented each other and told jokes. Louis was enjoying dating Harry, it made him feel like the shackles of Zayn's death were beginning to loosen, and it gave him hope that one day, his life would feel normal again.
A couple days later, and Louis was crying in his bed. It was the day he had been dreading ever since October, but now that it was finally here it was worse than he could ever have imagined. It was 5.30am, and he was gripping the sheets as he silently cried into his pillow. Harry was sleeping soundly next to him, but Louis was determined not to wake him up. The hours rolled by with Louis sobbing quietly into his pillow until Harry began to stir, turning over to face Louis as he opened his eyes.
"Louis, baby, come 'ere," Harry mumbled, pulling Louis' shaking body into his own. "I'm not going anywhere today, okay? We're going to take the day off from school, and we're going to do whatever it is that you want. Today is, um, it's all about what you want and what you need, alright?" Louis just nodded into Harry's chest, his tears creating a pool on the sheet. That was how they stayed until Harry made himself get up and make breakfast for the boys. The four of them ate it on Louis' bed, each of them thinking about Zayn.
"Can you remember his birthday last year, when we went clubbing and that blonde girl kept hitting on him?" Liam laughed, remembering the way Zayn repeatedly moved around the club so that she would stop chasing him.
"And the year before, when he was dating that Gigi girl and they kept sneaking off to kiss when we had everyone in the flat?" Niall reminisced, each of their minds filling with memories of the Zayn they once knew. For Louis, he just listened. Niall and Liam only had two years of birthdays to remember, Harry didn't have any, but Louis had sixteen, He had spent sixteen years celebrating the day Zayn was born. He had been to all of his superhero themed parties, the trip to Harry Potter World, the birthday dinners and the surprise parties. He had been there when Zayn had blown out the candles, always nagging him to tell him his wish. He had bought him presents every year, watching the smile form when he tore open the wrapping paper. They had celebrated him turning sixteen with a movie night and a few drinks with friends, they had celebrated him turning eighteen with a family meal and a night on the town, but not once did Louis ever think that sixteen years was all he'd get. Sixteen birthdays, sixteen cakes, sixteen years.
"I actually think I was there that night," Harry said, "you had arranged to throw a party in your flat and you, um, invited so many people and I remember the place being so crowded. I'm pretty sure Niall ended up doing an Irish jig to Shakira whilst you screamed at him to get off the table," Harry continued, pointing at Liam.
"I can't believe you were there! Zayn wasn't happy when he woke up the next day to find that I'd fallen over and squashed the remnants of his cake!" Niall laughed, his eyes sparkling with the memory. Louis remembered that night well. It was Zayn's nineteenth birthday, his first away from home, and Louis wanted to make it memorable. He had bought balloons and banners and a disco ball to hang in the flat and had invited literally everyone he could think of. Everyone from Zayn's classes, Niall's classes, Liam's classes, his own classes, and anybody else that he could possibly get an invitation to, knew about the party. Louis had taken Zayn to the pub for a drink whilst Liam and Niall set everything up, and by the time they got home the party was in full swing. Zayn had thanked Louis so much that night, especially when Louis had invited the girl Zayn was seeing. It was the first birthday the four of them had actually spent together, and it was shocking to think it was one of so few. After an hour of stories, Niall and Liam sorted themselves out and got ready for the day. Niall had to practice a few songs for his next gig whilst Liam had to finish his presentation. They both went into their rooms as Louis and Harry stayed tangled together in bed. Neither of the boys said anything, Harry just held Louis, reassuring him that he was okay. Harry knew how hard today would be for all of the boys, especially Louis, but he was determined to do everything in his power to get him through it. Just after midday, Louis suddenly sat bolt upright, startling Harry in the process.
"Lou, what's wrong?" Harry asked, his confusion and concern evident.
"Zayn. Come with me," he declared, standing up and leaving the room. Harry followed, watching as Louis pulled Niall and Liam out of their rooms and down the corridor. Each boy followed him, but not without worrying that he was losing his mind. "Okay, I know this is sudden, but I want to do this. I need to do this. Liam, I know you've been needing this for a while, and Niall, I know you've been toying with the idea, but you didn't want to do it until I was ready. Well, I'm as ready as I'll ever be. Harry, you don't have to do this, you have no idea what went on in there and if it's too much you can stay here," Louis announced, looking between the three confused boys.
"Louis, what are you talking about?" Niall asked.
"Zayn's room. I think it's time," Louis whispered, his strong appearance faltering as he looked at the closed door. "I think we all need this, and it's his birthday and I can't stand the thought of the last place he ever took a breath being closed off anymore. Can we do this together?"
"Louis, please just promise me that you're sure. Once you open that door there is, uh, no going back. Everything you felt that day will come flooding back, are you sure you can handle that?" Harry stepped forward, taking Louis' hand in his own. "If you're positive you want this, I'll take every, um, every step with you, but I just have to make sure." Louis nodded, telling Harry that this was something he had to do. Niall and Liam agreed too, so with Louis in the front of the line, gripping Harry's hand for support, he took a deep breath and opened the door. It was exactly as it always had been. There were paintings all over the floor, the wall that Zayn had spray painted still stared Louis in the face, and all of his things were left as if he'd be coming back for them. Louis looked around, Zayn's laptop still sat on his desk with all of his papers and books scattered around it. His notebook was still open on the floor, the pen resting on top ready to be used. The sheets on his bed had been stripped by someone the day Zayn died, but there was still the faint outline of the blood on the mattress. His pillows were thrown around the room the way he always did when he got ready for bed. His clothes were hanging in his wardrobe, never to be worn again. Dust sat heavily on top of everything, and as Louis took in the room, he noticed Zayn's mobile phone on the nightstand. He let go of Harry's hand, slowly walking over to it and plugging it into the charger. When it turned on, the messages flooded the screen. He saw the texts he had sent that day, the photo of himself from when he got out of the shower and his hair was a mess. He saw the worried messages and the missed calls. As he scrolled through the list of messages, he saw 'mum' and 'dad' over and over again. He didn't read any of the messages, knowing that his parents had sent them so they could feel close to him. He let the tears slip as Zayn's final day replayed in his head, the screams getting louder and louder as he pictured his bloodied body laying still on the bed. He could remember Liam on the phone and Niall crying in the corner. He could remember the paramedics rushing in and Liam dragging him out. He could remember Trisha hugging him and how he didn't hug her back. He could remember the coldness of his skin and the bright red blood seeping through his clothes. It was Zayn's face that made him run back to the safety of Harry's arms, though. He'd never thought about it before, but Zayn's face was so peaceful. There were no frown lines, no evidence of pain, no tears, just peace. Actually, now that Louis came to think of it, Zayn looked happy. Happy. Zayn hadn't been happy for months, but once he was dead, he was. Louis smiled at that thought, finally understanding why Zayn took his own life. It wasn't because Louis had killed him, it wasn't because he was selfish, it wasn't because he was stupid, it was because he wanted to be free. He wanted to be free from the pain, the anger and the sadness. He wanted to be free of his depression and his life. Yes, that meant leaving his friends and family, but it meant he could be free of the thoughts that had tormented him for so long.
"I need to go," Louis smiled, stepping away from Harry and going back towards the door.
"Where are you going?" Liam and Niall chorused, Harry just following him aimlessly.
"I'm going to see my second family."
After giving the boys more of an explanation, Harry, Louis, Niall and Liam loaded themselves into the car and drove the journey to Doncaster. Louis sat in the passenger seat as Harry drove, his leg bouncing as he nervously chewed his nails. For the first time in four months, he had understood why Zayn had died, but admitting that to Zayn's parents was a whole new ball game. Would they hate him? Would they still blame him? Would they understand? Harry kept glancing over at the nervous wreck beside him, every now and then reaching out to squeeze his knee in support. It always earnt a shy smile from Louis, so Harry knew it was helping a little. Eventually, as they passed the sign to say they were back in Louis' hometown, Liam directed Harry to the right street. As he parked up outside, Louis turned and gripped Harry's hands.
"I can't do this. I'm sorry, you need to take me home. They're going to hate me, and they'll never forgive me, and I can't do it. I can't do it. I can't do it," Louis stated, repeating the last sentence over and over again until Harry interrupted.
"Listen, Zayn's parents think the, um, think the world of you. You said yourself they're your second family. They could never hate you, Louis, and especially not because of this. I promise." Louis nodded, concentrating on his breathing as he stepped out the car to join the other boys on the pavement. They crossed the road together, and as Louis rang the doorbell, his mind went straight back to the first time he had stood on the very same welcome mat.
***
"Mummy!" Zayn shouted as Louis stood awkwardly by the front door, "daddy said my friend could stay for dinner!"
"Oh, did he now? Does his mum know he's here?" Louis heard in response, and Zayn shouted back that she did. "Well, if your dad said it's okay then I suppose it's fine with me too," she said as she appeared into view. Zayn smiled over at Louis, his brown eyes giving off a warmth that most children don't have. Zayn's dad was getting their stuff from the boot of the car as Zayn's mum walked in front of the boys. "I take it you're the famous Louis, Zayn has been talking about you nonstop," she smiled, causing Zayn to blush. Louis smiled back, remembering what his mum had always taught him.
"It's nice to meet you, Mrs Malik," Louis said proudly, his confident streak coming out.
"Oh my, what a polite little boy. But please, call me Trisha," she smiled, waiting for her husband to enter the house too. "Dinner will be in about two hours, so why don't you boys go upstairs and play?" They didn't need telling twice as they both scurried up the stairs, Zayn showing Louis into his room and playing with the train tracks that covered the carpeted floor.
***
The door opened, and Louis found himself gripping onto Harry's hand as a brown pair of eyes scanned over the group. Louis' body tensed as they stopped on him, and he found himself staring straight back. They were so familiar, it almost hurt too much to look.
"What are you doing here?" Louis heard, but he was too busy letting go of Harry's hand to pay attention to what was said.
"It's nice to see you, Mrs Malik, I'm sorry it's taken so long," Louis said quietly, still not taking his eyes away from hers.
"Oh, Louis, it's always been Trisha to you, now come here," she replied, her arms instantly embracing Louis. The hug was relatively short, but it felt like he was experiencing his childhood all over again. All the times that Trisha had hugged Louis as he cried about being told off at school, when he woke up after a nightmare, when his mum and dad divorced, when the twins were born, when he broke up with boyfriends, when he had a fight with his mum or when he got the grades he needed for university. Hugging Trisha felt safe, it felt like hugging Zayn. Louis relaxed slightly until she led them all into the house, Yaser sitting on the sofa surrounded by sympathy cards and flowers.
"Boys, we weren't expecting to see you today," he spoke, shaking each of their hands in turn. "You're new, were you a friend of Zayn's?" he asked Harry, shaking his hand, nonetheless.
"Um, hello sir, I'm Harry. I knew Zayn around school but I'm actually Louis', uh, friend," Harry stuttered. He quickly looked over to Louis. Is friend the right thing to say? They had been dating for a few weeks, but they hadn't exactly made it official, so friend was probably the safest option for now. And anyway, maybe Louis didn't want anything more than casual dates with Harry. Maybe Harry was getting too far ahead of himself. Louis smiled in return, patting the space next to him so Harry could sit there. Each boy looked around the room at all the cards and flowers, it was the first time any of them had been in the house since way before Zayn passed. Louis had made sure to avoid it after the funeral and when he came home for Christmas, so he had never been there without Zayn.
"What do we owe this pleasure?" Trisha asked, her eyes watery as she looked at the four young men in her living-room. For her, it felt strange seeing these boys without Zayn in the middle of it. It felt weird seeing this new lad in the place of her son.
"With it being Zayn's birthday, we thought we'd make the effort to see you both," Liam commented, a sad smile on his lips.
"Yeah, we were at home and Louis decided he wanted to come here, so we all came," Niall added. The conversation was mainly centred around Zayn, little stories about past presents and parties swapped around the room. Louis paid close attention to Trisha and Yaser, noticing how they smiled when they talked about their son and how they seemed to enjoy talking about him. Honestly, it wasn't what Louis had expected. It took him a long time to be able to talk about Zayn openly, and even now he struggled at times, so seeing the people who brought him into the world be so open already was surprising.
"Louis, you're a little quiet, is everything okay?" Trisha asked, all attention turning to him.
"Uh, actually, there's something I'd like to talk to you about," he began, Harry's hand instantly finding his in the gap between them. "I should have told you this before, and I'm sorry, but I need to do this now." Yaser and Trisha exchanged confused looks but encouraged Louis to continue. "Do you remember when Zayn and I came home last summer, and we spent most of our time inside instead of going to parties? Well, the thing is, Zayn told me then that he was struggling and that's why we stayed in."
"Struggling?" Trisha repeated, her eyes beginning to tear up.
"He told me he had been to the doctors and was diagnosed with depression. I tried to help him; I really did! I tried to get him to talk, to tell you guys, or at least talk to a professional, but he refused and said he could fix it on his own. I forced him to go to class when he didn't want to get out of bed, I sat with him when he cried, and I comforted him when he was down. I was the only person he told and I'm so sorry. I knew he was struggling, and I should have told someone so they could help him, but I didn't and I'm sorry!" Trisha was crying. Louis was crying. Liam was looking at the floor. Niall was holding back his tears. Harry was stroking Louis' hand. Yaser sat completely still, staring straight ahead.
"You knew," Trisha cried, "all this time we thought it was a sudden decision, but it wasn't, it was planned. My baby planned to die." Tears fell from her cheeks as she took in this new piece of information. Louis felt so guilty, he knew this was going to be hard but watching her cry and knowing that it was his fault was the hardest thing of all.
"I'm so sorry! I tried to help him; I promise! I was his shoulder to cry on, I googled therapists for him to try, I cuddled him when he couldn't sleep, I made him go to class and try to eat and make him laugh, I tried to get him to talk to you, I kept an eye on him and I tried to be everything he needed, but I failed and I'm sorry!" Louis was so busy trying to persuade Trisha that he was sorry, that he didn't notice Yaser stand from his seat.
"You. You are the reason my son is dead." The room was silent as he stood over Louis, his figure casting a shadow across the room.
"No! No!" Louis cried, standing up too, "you have to believe me, I tried to save him!"
"You killed him!" Yaser bellowed, swinging his fist that connected perfectly to Louis' nose. There was a rush of commotion as Louis stumbled backwards into the arms of Harry. The metallic taste of his blood dripped into his mouth as his tears fell, his hands gripping his throbbing nose as the noise around him continued. He sobbed into Harry's chest as he heard Trisha screaming at her husband, Liam holding Yaser back from attacking Louis again and Niall telling everyone to calm down. Harry was rubbing his back, shushing him and whispering calming thoughts into his ear. When Louis heard the front door bang, the noise level dropped and all that he could hear was his own sobs.
"I'm so sorry, Louis, I'm so sorry," Trisha cried, putting her hand on Louis' shoulder. She walked away to get a wet cloth and the first aid box, coming back in to find Louis sat next to Harry on the sofa. Niall and Liam were crouching around him, but Trisha pushed her way through to be right in front. "I know you would have done everything you could to save my boy, you loved him as much as we did, I'm just pleased he wasn't struggling alone." Louis tried to smile, but he could hardly see through his tears. Harry held his hand as Trisha wiped away the blood and sorted him out, and once it was done, she went into the kitchen to make everyone a drink. Louis rested his head on Harry's shoulder as the front door opened, the tension in the room increasing once again. Yaser stepped in, the streaks down his cheeks showing everyone how much he had been crying. Harry gripped his hand as Liam stood up, standing between Zayn's dad and his friend.
"If you go anywhere near him again, I swear you'll regret it," Liam said calmly, watching as Yaser nodded and looked past him, straight at Louis.
"Louis, I'm sorry. I don't know what I was thinking. You were everything to Zayn, I should feel pleased that he at least had you to support him when he didn't trust us enough. I suppose, really, that's the problem for me. He didn't feel like he could tell us. Blaming you in that moment was easier than blaming myself for being a bad parent." Louis could see the tears cascade down his face as he spoke, and Louis didn't even hesitate to stand up and make his way towards him.
"Are you crazy? Zayn loved you both so much, Ican't even imagine how hard it was for him to leave you both. I blamed myself forso long. After we found him, I didn't talk for a long time. I thought that ifanyone knew the truth, they'd hate me. I only gave the speech at Zayn's funeralbecause I didn't want to let you both down. I felt that it was my fault, that Ihad killed Zayn. I let myself go and stopped paying attention in class, Ididn't speak to the boys or my family or anyone for so long, and I thought ofnothing but Zayn. I passed out after a football match, and whilst I was unconscious,I imagined him telling me that I had failed to save him and that I killed him.I was so scared that I believed it was true. Luckily for me, Harry here camealong and carefully, brick by brick, took down the walls I had been buildingaround myself. When I came home for Christmas, I visited Zayn's grave, andagain, I imagined him talking to me, but he was much more like the Zayn I knew.He told me that it wasn't my fault, that he chose to do it. I didn't buy theblade, I didn't tell him to use it, I didn't kill him. I wanted to help him; Ireally did. I'd do anything to have him here with me now, telling me that I'man idiot and making fun of me, but he isn't, and I can't be blamed for that. Ididn't think I was ready to tell you yet, but we went into Zayn's room todayfor the first time since October, and for the first time I pictured his face onthe pillow. It was so soft, peaceful, and quiet. It hit me then that Zaynwasn't being stupid or selfish, I hadn't failed him, it was his way of findinghappiness. That day, when I look back, I remember that he didn't look pained orworried, he wasn't scared or angry, he was happy and free. It hurts that Zaynthought his only way out was death, that that was the only way he could behappy again, but it's what he chose. He wanted happiness and freedom from painand hurt, and I honestly believe he found that." Louis was so into hisconfession, that he didn't notice Trisha leaning on the doorframe, crying athis words. He didn't notice Liam and Niall holding each other as they cried. Hedidn't notice Harry wiping his tears on his sleeve. He didn't notice Yaserbreaking down in front of him. All he could concentrate on, the only thing thatmattered, was the picture of Zayn hanging on the wall.