"Holy shit." Zayn said when he saw where Harry lived.

Harry smiled a little, pulling into the garage.

"Are all of these yours?" Zayn asked, looking around at the cars.

Cars that cost more than his house.

"Um, well no. A few are my mom's but she doesn't drive them much. Just for special occasions I guess." Harry answered.

Zayn chuckled some, unable to believe this.

He was even deeper in disbelief when he saw the inside of Harry's house.

"Good afternoon master Styles." A house maid smiled as Zayn and Harry walked towards the grand staircase.

"Hi, can we have some food brought up to my room please?" He asked her.

"Certainly, sir. What would you and your guest like?" She asked.

Zayn felt like he was dreaming.

Harry looked at him. "How about soup? The cooks make some of the best soup and it's the perfect day for it."

"Okay, sure." Zayn nodded.

"What kind is your favorite?" Harry asked.

Zayn thought for a moment.

"Chicken and gnocchi."

"Coming right up." The house maid smiled, hearing him from where she stood.

"So...they're really going to bring chicken and gnocchi soup up to your room?" Zayn asked.

"Yep." Harry said, leading him upstairs.

"Wow." Zayn chuckled, looking around again.

"You're going to want some dry clothes right?" Harry asked as they entered his room and he tossed his phone on his bed.

Zayn didn't respond, looking at how big and neat Harry's bedroom was.

"I'll give you a tour when my clothes aren't clinging to me." Harry said, making Zayn snap out of it.

"Oh. Um, okay." Zayn blinked.

"T-shirt and sweats?" Harry suggested.

"You actually own that?" Zayn asked skeptically.

"I do." Harry smiled, going into his closet.

Zayn followed, looking at all of his clothes.

So many colors and textures.

"Your closet is bigger than my bedroom." Zayn said quietly, looking at the area in the middle where Harry's shoes were stored.

"Will this work?" Harry asked, handing him a plain grey t-shirt and black sweatpants.

"Sure, where can I change?" Zayn asked, taking them.

"Oh, these too." Harry said, tossing him a pair of black Calvin Klein boxers.

Zayn was more of a Fruit of the Loom type of guy but this could certainly work.

"Don't worry, you can keep them. I have tons. And you can change in my room and I'll change in here." Harry said.

"Oh, okay." Zayn said, slowly leaving the closet.

He went out into Harry's room, hesitating because he felt so out in the open.

Still, he quickly fought his way out of his damp clothes and into Harry's dry ones.

Zayn never knew boxers could feel so good.

He then pulled the shirt he wore up to his nose, breathing in the nice scent deeply.

Zayn flinched as Harry's phone started ringing from where it'd been thrown on the bed.

Harry came hurrying in also wearing a pair of sweatpants, but missing a shirt.

"Hello?" Harry asked after he quickly grabbed his phone.

"Hey babe." Louis said, making Harry frown.

"You told me you were going to be busy all day why are you calling me?" Harry asked, walking across his room and through the short hallway to his connecting bathroom.

"Well, we're taking a break and you were on my mind and I figured you were home by now." Louis said.

"Oh." Harry said quietly, getting a towel.

"Are you okay?" Louis asked.

"Fine, yeah. I just can't talk long because...I'm still driving. Zayn and I are going to get something to eat." Harry lied.

"Still driving?" Louis echoed.

"Yeah I'm not home. Probably won't be for a while. I'll call you tonight though okay?" He asked.

"You're lying." Louis said, making Harry pause while drying his curls.

"What?" He asked quietly.

"I know you're lying. Why are you lying to me?" Louis asked.

"I'm not lying! How dare you accuse me of lying?" Harry spat.

"I put a tracking device on your phone. You're at home." Louis said.

Harry's jaw dropped. "You've been tracking me? What, do you not trust me? What the hell, Louis?" He yelled.

"Well why should I? You just lied to me!" Louis snapped.

"Okay, you know what? I'm done talking to you. How about you track your steps back and find where you fucked up." Harry said coldly, hanging up.

He switched his phone to silent, leaving it on the bathroom counter and going back to Zayn.

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"How was the soup?" Harry smiled when they finished.

"Perfect." Zayn said, looking down at his empty bowl.

"What do you want to do now?" Harry asked, looking at him from where he sat on his bed.

Zayn was sitting as Harry's desk.

"Um, I kinda want to know why you lied to Louis." Zayn admitted, developing a taste for drama.

He blamed Leeroy.

Harry swallowed, looking away. "I didn't want him to start asking me a bunch of questions and assuming stuff. I just wanted to have a short and sweet goodbye because I felt like it was rude to leave you and go talk on the phone. If I didn't say goodbye he'd have me on the phone for hours and I'm pretty sure our conversations would make you vomit."

"Probably." Zayn smiled.

"But what are you gonna do now? Wait for him to call you again?" Zayn asked.

"I guess. He put a tracker on my phone without telling me. I'm not forgiving him for that. He wants to call me out for lying yet he didn't tell me about that. I mean what else hadn't he told me? He's been such a dick lately and he knows it but will constantly claim he loves me and misses me. And what do I do? I believe him! I just sit here like some dumb princess in a castle waiting for him to come back and I let him in my room, in my heart, and in my body. He makes me hate myself sometimes. Or maybe I should say helps me hate myself. All of a sudden he acts like he doesn't trust me anymore. It drives me crazy and I just-"

"Harry." Zayn said, stopping him.

Harry instantly realized he'd said too much.

Why did his mouth take off every time he was around Zayn?

"Yeah?" Harry eventually asked.

"Break up with him."

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