#mod24

“She’s eighteen.” Niall murmured, his head resting against the wall, loosely holding his beer bottle against his knee. “Dark red hair, gorgeous American accent, a short skirt and no underwear.”

Soph peeked through the glass of the door of the private hospital waiting room they’d all been placed in.

“No.” Soph snorted. “She looks about ninety, has black hair, a nurse’s uniform and a really big spot bang in between her eyebrows.”

Niall made a disgusted noise at the back of his throat.

It had been nearly two hours since Soph had arrived. Her father didn’t quite believe that Soph was telling the truth when she’d told him Zayn wasn’t yet out of surgery, so had sent Robina to the hospital shortly afterwards. Thankfully, she wasn’t with the 1D boys – she’d bumped into a friend of hers in the lobby and had vouched to stay there.

“Don’t let my faith in you be discredited.” Robina murmured into Soph’s ear as she hugged her, Soph muttering a false excuse about covering a piece on hospitals for work. “If he wakes up, come and find me.”

Soph had nodded, before joining the boys again. They’d been put in a private room at the side, after a few people had recognized them. It was lucky, really; the doctors genuinely believed that the boys being in the hospital wouldn’t be good for certain patients and so had quickly tucked them away.

They were playing a game, one they often played before concerts. They’d imagine a person – usually a girl –, creating a whole persona, before scouring the crowd for someone who could pass as them. However, due to them being in an NHS hospital in Central London instead, they only had nurses to go by.

“I won’t lie, after this, I’ll never find nurse’s outfits sexy again.” Louis said solemnly. They all paused for a moment; before laughing quietly. They all felt slightly guilty for laughing, particularly when Zayn was in surgery and – for all they knew – fighting for his life, so it died down quickly, but it helped lighten the mood.

Louis had disappeared for a while beforehand, before coming back and bearing alcohol for Rose, Liam, Niall, himself and Harry. Also in his bag of goodies, were there jumbo-packs of chocolate chip Maryland cookies, some Toffee Crisp chocolate bars, salt and vinegar crisps and an endless supply of banana milkshake and Relentless energy drinks for Soph and the others.

“This shit keeps you going for nearly twenty-four full hours.” Soph frowned in distaste, wiping her mouth with the back of her jacket as she took a deep sip. “He better be thankful for this.”

They all paused, including Soph mid-sip, as they all silently wondered if Zayn would ever wake up.

“If he isn’t-”

“Excuse me.” Harry interrupted, not letting Louis finish, as he took one final swig of his beer before abruptly leaving the room, his empty bottle standing lonely on the floor.

The door swung shut loudly behind him.

Soph closed her eyes and looked down at the floor. Setting her can down, she ran her fingers through her hair, pausing for a moment to bunch it all away from her face – before sighing and letting the tendrils cascade over her shoulders, standing up. Niall smiled at her.

“I better go see how he is.” Soph murmured, glancing at the rest of them. She looked tired. She had dark circles under her eyes – her six-hour nap in the mosque hadn’t been enough, after all – from the night before – no scratch that, the past week of sleepless nights, mostly thanks to Zayn, Soph thought bitterly, though without real venom – and her hair was unruly. “If... If anything... Happens...” Soph said uncertainly.

“We’ll call you straight away, darlin’.” Niall told her softly, with a sweet smile. “We’re not kidding ourselves, we know he’ll want to see you first.”

Soph didn’t say anything, simply nodding her head jerkily, confliction running across her features.

“Do you want me to come?” Rose asked, making Soph remember where she was and not just run  off with Niall’s words. Soph stared at her with a slightly guilty expression – did Rose want an explanation about Zayn? Now? – but Rose was hasty to clarify, going as if to rise from Liam’s lap. “To come and see Harry?”

Liam turned his face away, his arm still wrapped loosely around Rose’s waist, biting the inside of his bottom lip thoughtfully.

“Why would I need you to come and see Harry?” Soph asked in confusion, shaking her head, before smiling. Rose knew Soph wasn’t being rude; with startling realization, Rose realized she’d been keeping her own... Secrets? Too. Were they really secrets? Her and Harry’s friendship, that is? Was it even a friendship at all, after the way Harry had treated her this morning? Soph smiled, almost sleepily, at her best friend. “No, no, it’s fine, you stay here with the boys. Harry won’t want to talk to anybody else anyway.”

Despite knowing she was being irrational, Rose felt a pang of hurt in her chest as she settled back into Liam’s lap. It wasn’t that Harry wasn’t going to talk to anyone – he wasn’t going to talk to anyone other than Soph. Which was fine, Rose reassured herself, after all, they were best friends, just like Rose and Soph were. And Soph didn’t even know how close she and Harry had gotten!

... But it still stung.

“You might want to take this with you.” Liam said helpfully, keeping his arm wound around Rose’s waist as he bent down to pick up Soph’s can. “Just in case you need to keep going.”

Soph smiled at Liam fondly.

“What would I do without you?” Soph sighed, shaking his hair. Liam laughed and ducked, making Rose and Soph smile between themselves at his cuteness. “Alright. You’ll let me know if...?”

“We’ll let you know, honey, don’t worry.” Louis nodded seriously, with a smile. He was thankful that Soph was looking after Harry for him. If Soph hadn’t been in their lives, it would have been Louis chasing after him – considering Zayn wasn’t available to -, and in all honesty, Louis wasn’t sure if he could deal with something like that when he was in so much pain just by himself.

“Anybody want anything while I’m out?” Soph offered, hesitating at the door. She didn’t really want to leave. She’d left Adam just for a few hours, when they thought his coma had just gotten into full swing, and he’d woken up without her beside him, something Soph would never really forgive herself for.

“We’ll be fine, sweetheart.” Niall gave her a friendly wink. “You go and sort Harry out, you’re the only one who’ll be able to get through to him right now.”

Rose smiled absently as Liam kissed her bare shoulder, his finger stroking her back underneath her tank top, as he watched Soph and Niall’s exchange.

“Okay.” Soph said tentatively. “I’ll... I’ll be back in a minute.”

They all nodded encouragingly at her, simultaneously sighing in relief as the door shut behind her.

“She’s barely holding herself together.” Louis remarked.

“Don’t say that.”

“Niall, didn’t you see the look on her face?” Louis rounded on Niall with incredulity. “Every time she even thinks about Zayn in there, she just sees A-”

“You’re right, we all know what you’re saying is true, but is it making a difference saying it out loud?” Niall sighed, asking Louis patiently. Louis fell silent, sighing loudly and crossing his arms over his chest. “Well?” Niall pressed. “Has it made you feel any better, Louis?”

“Of course not!” Louis snapped, folding his arms over his chest and sighing loudly. “No, of course it hasn’t.”

“Then please, Lou, do us all a favour and shut the fuck up. None of us need this right now, including you.” Niall said calmly, leaning his head back against the wall and closing his eyes.

It was a slight miracle that Louis did shut up after that, something that would be epic to Biblical proportions on a normal day. But nobody bothered to celebrate the fact. They never would have wished it to come from such circumstances.

“What’s up with Harry?” Rose sighed quietly, leaning her back against Liam’s chest tiredly. Liam, who had been softly stroking Rose’s hand, faltered for a moment. “I thought he’d be the one keeping us optimistic, no offence Niall.”

“None taken, love.” Niall replied tiredly.

Nobody offered an answer apart from that, so Liam decided to speak up.

“Harry is Zayn’s rock.” Liam began, Rose shifting slightly to watch him with attentiveness. “But Harry underestimates how much he relies on Zayn taking strength for him. It... It’s hard to explain-”

“He can be strong for himself, because Zayn knows he can be.” Rose finished.

“Right.” Liam smiled proudly at his girlfriend, his smile fading into a slightly more grim line as he continued to explain. “So, when you hurt Zayn, or see Zayn hurt...”

“You’re seeing Harry hurt, too.” Rose said slowly, nodding as she began to understand. “Like... Puppets, sort of.”

Louis laughed quietly at that, but Rose didn’t mind – she smiled at him.

“Yeah. Like puppets.” Liam smiled, more to himself as he continued. “Makes you wonder who’s the puppet-master in all of this, doesn’t it?”

Rose didn’t hear the edge in Liam’s voice and in all fairness, Liam hadn’t meant her to.

But Louis had.

He’d heard it.

Loud and clear.

*

Soph found Harry sitting sternly on the top of a small staircase, a staff one pushed out of the way, that she’d nearly walked by entirely. He was staring at the blank wall facing him, his usually happy smile replaced with a grim, concentrated line.

Soph sighed and sat next to him, making sure there was space between them.

“Harry-”

“You... Understand it better than the others do. Well, at least I think you do.” Harry managed a dry laugh and Soph felt her heart wrench as she saw water pooling in Harry’s eyes. His voice turned thick. “Don’t be strong for me, don’t try and make me feel better, just... Be honest with me, Soph?”

Soph nodded wordlessly, fighting her own tears.

“I... I mean... He...” Harry struggled, settling on sighing in frustration and turning back to the wall for a moment. He took a few deep breaths, his voice even thicker now, finally facing Soph again. “What if he isn’t the same after this, Soph?”

“I-”

“You agreed to be honest.”

“... Then I don’t know.” Soph whispered honestly, chewing the inside of her bottom lip as the familiar tingling behind her eyes warned her that there was now no going back.

“I love him.” Harry admitted, taking a deep breath as his face began to wrinkle with his tears.

“I know.” Soph nodded, her voice barely above a whisper, placing a finger under her eye to try and stop the tears. “I know, Harry.”

“He’s...” Harry’s voice broke. “Soph, he’s my family. He’s even more than that, my life wouldn’t be the same without him, Soph.”

Soph bit down on her trembling lip and sniffled, nodding. The tears fell from her eyes to her the knees of her jeans.

“I know.” Soph agreed again, her own voice wavering.

“Soph, I’m scared he won’t wake up or something!” Harry turned to face Soph properly, clenching his fists, his face visibly fighting the water that dripped from his eyes. “I just want to know he’s coming home!”

Soph broke. The boy – man? – that she had... Feelings for...? Was in surgery, her brother had just woken up from a coma with potentially life-threatening injuries and now her best friend was cracking in front of her.

“Harry, shut up, I fucking know!” Soph tried to shout, but it came out as wail instead – and then Harry and Soph were both holding tightly onto each other, their heads resting on each other’s shoulders, Harry pressing his fist against his forehead and Soph shaking as they both cried.

They sat there awhile, so many unspoken things between them that they already understood. They didn’t need to say anymore – words weren’t necessary for them both. They were too close for that, something Soph previously thought impossible, what with her high regard for language.

But it was true. Every tear was worth a million words and they shed more than their fair share – they held onto each other, Harry and Soph, and cried for Zayn to wake up. They wanted him to wake up, so that they could take him home.

*

“So, how is Soph?” Nasreen, Robina’s friend, asked with a smile. Her husband was recovering well from a heart attack, Robina had learnt. He was with some friends, but with all of her children married and in their own homes, Nasreen didn’t feel like waiting for him to be done with his friends in an empty house. “By God’s grace, she’s grown from a beautiful young girl into such a beautiful young woman.”

“Thank you.” Robina smiled, automatically as ever when she heard good things about her daughter. “And yes, she’s doing well. She got a first in her degree in Literature, she’s working at Conde Nast in Oxford Street – do you know it?”

“No, what is it?” Nasreen gasped.

“Oh, it’s a publishing house, they publish Vogue and those big sorts of magazines.” Robina said dismissively, proud of her daughter, even as a journalist, though she’d never admit it. She’d always thought Soph had the potential to be more, but hey – at least she loved what she was doing. “She’s doing well there, she likes it.”

“And how old is she, twenty?”

“Twenty-one.” Robina corrected, musing to herself how strange it sounded that her daughter could be so... Young, obviously, but... Old at the same time.

“Have you been getting any rishte yet?” Nasreen asked, sipping at her strong hospital-machine tea.

“We’ve had a few proposals, yes.” Robina nodded offhandedly, frowning slightly. She didn’t want to talk about Soph like that. “How’re your girls?”

“Oh, yeah, yeah, doing well in their own homes, praise be to God.” Nasreen smiled. She hung out at the local mosque. Robina was relatively heralded there – being the mystical second wife to the head figure of one of the most famous Asian families in London, as well as being notoriously upper-class, well-read and selective in her group of friends. Whilst Nasreen was in the upper circle, Robina didn’t get involved with her too often – she was one of the petty ones; a nice woman and kind, but a little bit too quick to smile and nod at the right people. Well. Who she thought were the right people, anyway. “But Soph has had some inquiries?”

“No, no, there’ve been a few official proposals.” Robina admitted, taking a sip of her hot chocolate, looking at Nasreen’s watered-down tea. Yeuck. Thank God she’d gotten her hot chocolate made with milk, from the small Marks and Spencer’s instead. “Nothing serious, really.”

“You’ve said no?” Nasreen gasped.

“No.” Robina frowned, not wanting people to know Soph was already addressing proposals. Maybe she shouldn’t have said anything; not that it mattered. So long as... One particular name came up, she’d be fine. And Soph wasn’t accepting the proposal of her cousin anyway, so Robina didn’t particularly care if her cousin’s name got involved. “It’s early days yet, we’ve been so busy with Adam after everything that’s happened...”

“Yes, I heard about that.” Nasreen’s inquisitive demeanor vanishing, at the mere thought of finding out something somebody else didn’t already know. “How is he? What happened?”

Robina sighed quietly to herself, despite the small amount of satisfaction she got from being fawned over. At least she hadn’t... Robina pushed it to the back of her mind. Soph was twenty-one; much too young to get married. And that came from experience. Robina’s first marriage had been when she was eighteen, she knew how big of a mistake young marriages could be. Intermarriages she also knew to be a mistake from her own conviction. She was letting neither of those experiences tarnish what was otherwise Soph’s bright and happy future.

There was doubt, of course. He had been... Sincere when he’d come with his father, the night before. A part of Robina that had learnt to be as cynical as her second husband wondered if this whole stabbing incident was just a ploy, a way to guilt-trip Soph into the answer Zayn so clearly wanted. She’d heard of men doing worse for the same reason, that being from her own experience, too.

But – well, even if Zayn did make her happy, what did she truly know of happiness? Soph was twenty-one, she was barely no longer a teenager. And whilst Robina could call her a young woman, a young adult all she wanted, it wouldn’t take away the fact that Soph would always be Robina’s baby.

Robina mentally shook herself out of it as Nasreen asked another probing question. What difference did it make? Iftikhar would never agree. Soph would never be stupid enough to voice what she was clearly thinking – well, what Robina as her mother could clearly see, anyway. Adam was around to keep Soph occupied, to keep her mind clear.

Oh, it would be a challenge. Working with him afterwards, that is. Soph was bound to have picked up on some of Zayn’s small habits – habits she probably found endearing now. He may even try to convince her that Soph was wrong in declining his... Ah, request. But she’d get through it.

Robina told herself that, again and again like a mantra, in the hope that she’d start to believe it. She didn’t want to listen to the voice in the back of her head, the voice telling her the truth, the only honest part of her left; that she’d be doing the wrong thing if she let someone who loved her daughter so much walk away without her.

*

Soph and Harry had been sat beside each other for the past twenty minutes, staring at the floor, Soph’s head on Harry’s shoulder.

“If we’re not careful, we’re going to be the ones getting married and having kids.” Soph murmured absently, making Harry laugh as he rubbed at the corner of his eye with his finger. “We need to find you somebody else who wants to share snot with you, people might talk...”

“And what about you?” Harry nudged her gently. “Or are you going to be the good little Asian girl?”

Harry turned away after saying that, and so didn’t see Soph’s smile fade slightly as she thought. Now would be the perfect time to tell Harry about Zayn’s proposal. But it didn’t feel... Right, somehow. Anyway, she’d just managed to get him feeling relatively better, if she told Harry, he’d probably go and kill someone – preferably Zayn.

Soph winced slightly, absently remembering where Zayn was.

“Come on.” Harry sighed after a few more, peaceful moments together, locking his iPhone, which he’d absently been playing with. “Zayn’s family are here.”

Soph stared up at him in surprise.

“What?”

“I called them earlier.” Harry told her, standing up and rubbing his eyes again. Soph stared up at him, glued to the floor. “Come on, there must be some news right now.”

“Harry, I can’t meet his family...” Soph said reluctantly, fear rising in her chest. She’d met Zayn’s father only yesterday, under... Seriously unexpected circumstances. And if she met Zayn’s family and they met Soph’s parents, they’d tell them they’d already met and Soph would be in even more trouble than she would be when she got back.

“Soph.” Harry sighed again, crossing his arms over his chest, his blazer sleeves rolled up to his elbows and sticking out his hand for Soph to take. “Stop bullshitting me. Come on.”

“I thought you hated swearing?” Soph said with a faint shadow of a smile.

“The situation deemed it necessary.” Harry told her, the corner of his mouth twitching. His voice softened. “Soph, we all just want to know if he’s okay.”

Soph sighed gustily, letting Harry haul her up but thinking of a million ways to escape, as well.

“You know, if we hadn’t become best friends, I probably would have tried to get into your panties instead?” Harry said cheekily.

Soph rolled her eyes at him.

“And look, either way I lose.” Soph replied, smiling as Harry laughed in disbelief and nudged her playfully. “Whatever, it could be worse, right? You could be trying to get into Rose’s panties instead!”

Harry managed a forced laugh.

“You know,” Soph mused, Harry falling back slightly behind her, staring guiltily at the floor. He wanted to tell Soph, but he didn’t want to be the one to say it first. That made it more real.  Soph glanced back at Harry, waiting for him to catch up and carry on walking in-step beside her. “She offered to come out and talk to you with me? It was really random, anybody else would have thought-” Soph’s laughter subsided almost instantly as Harry forced a smile on his face, turning to face the floor. “Harry...” Soph said warningly.

“Hmm?” Harry asked innocently.

Soph stared at him for a few moments, before letting out a groan of frustration.

“Now?” Soph shrieked. “You’re telling me now?”

“Technically, I’m not telling you anything.” Harry said tiredly.

“Don’t fuck with me, Styles!” Soph snapped, and Harry saw the old Soph, the normal Soph come back, her famous temper rising back up with her. It was a shame it was aimed at him. “Rose? Really? Rose?”

“You make it sound like she doesn’t have any redeeming qualities.” Harry sniffed.

“Oh, she has plenty, but one of them is that she’s Liam’s girlfriend.” Soph said dangerously. Harry had the decency to look away. A few moments passed. “Jesus, Harry, what have you done?”

“I haven’t done anything!” Harry said desperately, scared of losing Soph, now. “I’m trying to stay away from her, Soph!”

“But you have feelings for her?” Soph asked flatly. Harry fell silent. “Well? You do, don’t you?” Soph pushed.

Harry didn’t say anything.

“Soph, I-”

“Sophia?”

Harry and Soph both rounded guiltily, worry etching Soph’s face in case anybody heard, to be faced with... Yaser Malik.

“Um, h-hi-” Harry stammered, his eyes widening. Had he heard that?!

“You alright, Harry?” Yaser nodded tiredly. Soph was frozen in her spot. “Sophia, do your parents know  you’re here?”

Soph nodded mutely, feeling like a silly schoolgirl being reprimanded by her headmaster.

“Wait...” Harry’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “You two know each other?”

That got Yaser’s attention. He glanced up at Harry in surprise, before turning to Soph, who just slowly shook her head.

“What’s going on?” Harry frowned.

“Harry, mate, why don’t you go and say hi to Tricia? We’ll catch up in a moment.” Yaser smiled.

“Soph?” Harry checked, glancing between them, his stance protective in an instance. Soph nodded, chewing on her bottom lip. “Okay.” Harry said slowly. “Soph, I’ll meet you back in there, alright?”

“Mhmm.” Soph flashed him a quick smile through her chewing, both Yaser and Soph watching Harry, glancing at them over his shoulder, turn and leave.

Yaser turned to Soph expectantly.

“The others came and found me.” Soph began hesitantly. Yaser nodded, folding his arms across his chest, motioning for her to continue. “They told me about Zayn. They said he’d been asking for m-”

“Was Zayn wrong when he said you felt the same way about him, as he does about you?” Yaser interrupted, watching Soph with concentration.

Soph’s mind, for a moment, was blank. And then she blurted;

“I haven’t said no.” Stupidly.

Yaser gave her a faint smile.

“You didn’t answer the question.”

Soph bit the flesh of her thumb, leaning against the wall, surly like a teenager.

“It’s complicated.” Soph muttered.

“Alright.” Yaser sighed, rubbing his face. “Sophia, you seem like a nice girl-”

“Thank you.” She replied automatically.

“- but if you have no intentions of being with Zayn, please, leave him be.” Yaser pleaded, making Soph look up at him with wide eyes. “I know we’re not of the same rank as your family-”

“No! No, not at all, it’s just-”

“Let me finish.” Yaser said, with all the authority of an Asian elder. Soph fell silent. “Obviously, you feel something for my son. And I know you’re in a difficult position.” Yaser sighed. “And I wouldn’t usually corner you like this-”

“It’s fine.” Soph said quietly, understanding why he was.

“- but he’s just been stabbed.” Yaser said, his voice hardening slightly as he fought his emotion. True Pakistani macho-man, Soph thought to herself. How is it he and my Dad aren’t best friends? “And he’s already been asking for you, I know, the boys told me. But I’d rather he got better without your help and never see you again afterwards, than you helped him and he stayed hurt.”

Soph nodded again, tears filling her eyes as she cast them down to the floor. Hastily, she wiped them away. Yaser felt he should stop, something tugging in his chest – he had daughters and he hated making them cry, who was he to make somebody else’s daughter upset? He wasn’t being fair – but knew she understood. And to an extent, agreed.

“He’s out and awake!” Niall chose then to pop his head around the waiting room door and yell down the corridor to Soph and Yaser. They both glanced up at him in surprise. Niall, seeing the water in Soph’s eyes, took it for relief. With a smile, he nodded and told her; “He’s asking for you, darlin’.”

It was a cruel twist of fate – or perhaps just bad luck – that the news of Zayn being awake came at that exact moment. Soph physically bit down on her tongue, hard, preparing herself for the metallic taste of her own blood as she did, as she stifled a large cry of pain as she felt her heart break.

But wasn’t what Yaser was saying right? Soph had been thinking it at the back of her mind the entire time, she just hadn’t been strong enough yet to address it. If she was going to say no to Zayn officially – which she’d have to -  then she’d have to stop seeing him soon enough, even just for a short while so they could both deal with it. How would it help if she helped him recover for a stab wound? It would be selfish, to etch herself in his memory like that. It was selfish and it was so, so unfair to them both.

Yaser looked down at the floor as he saw Soph close her eyes, fighting tears. He didn’t mean to hurt the girl – but he had to look out for his son.

Soph took a deep, steady breath to calm herself and opened her eyes. Niall waited patiently, smiling with relief for Soph, thinking she was preparing herself to see him. But then...

“I have to go.” Soph whispered, clenching her fists and beginning to walk away, Yaser saying nothing as he kept his eyes trained at the floor.

“Soph?” Niall called out in confusion, as Soph began to walk faster. “Soph!”

But by now Soph was running, as fast as she could, the tears falling freely down her face. She didn’t stop until she was in the empty elevator, her back pressed against the cool metal as the doors closed. And then she cried.

*

The doctor nodded at Yaser as she left the waiting room, Yaser finding the boys, his wife and his three girls all with covered faces.

“What is it, what happened?” Yaser demanded.

“Just a flesh wound.” Niall grinned, the only one with the energy to, but the smile not really meeting his eyes. He kept his eyes trained on the door. “He’ll be right as rain in a few weeks or so.”

Tricia took her husband’s hand, smiling up at him through her tears. He smiled back down at her in relief.

Harry released a large breath, one he seemed to have been holding the entire time and took his hands from his face, automatically going to see Soph and smile at her knowingly. Their little scene in the empty stairwell had been for nothing.

But she wasn’t there.

Harry’s entire expression changed in less than a second.

“Where’s Soph?” Harry frowned, looking between Niall and Yaser. Niall looked at Harry meaningfully, as if to tell him something was wrong. Harry turned to Yaser. “What did you say to her?”

“Harry.” Louis said sharply.

“Zayn’s my son, Harry, it’s my job to look out for him.” Yaser replied evenly. Tricia frowned beside him, looking up at her standing husband with confused eyes. Yaser sighed. “Let’s not talk about it now. Come on, let’s go and see Zayn -”

“He doesn’t want to see anyone, unless she’s with them!” Harry said loudly, standing up. “Can’t you see how much they’re both hurting? What did you say?”

“Yas, what’s Harry talking about?” Tricia asked in a hushed whisper, her voice still wet from crying.

“Soph.” Niall informed her grimly. “She – her and Zayn-” Niall, oblivious to Zayn’s proposal the day before, wondered how he could explain it right. “- Zayn was asking for her when he came in.”

Tricia’s eyes widened in surprise.

“And now she’s not here and I don’t want to be the person that tells Zayn that.” Harry muttered, rubbing his face and turning away from Yaser, furious. “What are we meant to say? That she was here a second ago, but then she spoke to your Dad and has mysteriously disappeared?”

“Where did she go?” Rose asked Yaser, fighting the panic rising in her chest. She couldn’t walk back to Adam’s hospital, it would take over an hour and it was late and dark outside.

“I don’t know.” Yaser shrugged honestly, slouched as if there were a weight on his shoulders. “And if Zayn is going to get upset, we just won’t mention it.”

“... How can we not?” Louis asked slowly. “Her brother just got out of a coma and as soon as she heard about him, she rushed over, she’s been waiting here for hours with us. We can’t let Zayn think she doesn’t care. How would we be able to look either of them in the eye?”

“Let Zayn know Soph was here.” Harry told the other boys, buttoning up the blazer he’d thrown onto his chair a mere moment ago. “I’m going to find her.”

“I’ll come with you.” Rose said quickly.

Harry hesitated for a moment, aware of Liam’s eyes on him; but he nodded once, all the same.

“She’ll talk to you.” Harry said quietly, before turning away to button his jacket. Louis and Niall glanced at each other, then glanced back at Harry. Something was... Wrong.

“Boys.” Yaser said warningly. “I’m his father, please respect that.”

“Please respect that we’ve seen more than you have.” Harry said quietly, looking at Yaser with dangerous eyes. “We’ve seen Soph and Zayn fight their feelings for each other, we’ve seen them try and live without each other and now when they’re finally allowing themselves to be happy, you want us to be the ones to screw it up? How could we do that to them? How could we screw them over like that?”

“After yesterday-”

“No, don’t.” Rose interrupted hastily. Yaser turned to her with raised eyebrows. “They don’t know yet, there must have been a reason Soph and Zayn didn’t tell them.”

The boys all sat up at that.

“Rose, what are you talking about?” Harry asked in a low, dangerous voice.

Rose hesitated.

“It’s not my place to say.” Rose said finally, her voice turning slightly pleading as Harry turned away in anger. “And it’s not yours, either, with all due respect.” Rose turned beseechingly to Yaser. “They haven’t said anything because they don’t know what it is to say yet! It’s their news, not ours.”

“Oh, really?” Harry snorted. “Then how the Hell do you know?”

“I wasn’t meant to find out, Harry, this isn’t about me being more of a best friend.” Rose said seriously. “Soph was appalled that I found out, she wanted to tell us when she was ready.”

Everything was silent for a moment.

“Rose, you’re beginning to scare me.” Liam said in a low voice.

“I can’t say.” Rose said simply. “She’s my best friend and I made her a promise, I can’t break that.” She owed that much to Soph at least, Rose thought. She may have a boyfriend now and a close new set of friends, but none of that would have been possible without Soph.

Who knew what may have happened, had Soph and Rose never become friends? Would Rose be convincing herself she was happy, with Ryan, because she didn’t know what true happiness was? They both owed a lot to each other.

And if Soph wanted Rose to keep a secret, she would. Soph didn’t hide anything from Harry, but there had been plenty of things Rose had asked Soph not to share – and she hadn’t. Rose wasn’t going to let anybody change that, One Direction or not.

Rose’s words hurt Harry, right in the chest. Rose was being so faithful to Soph, why couldn’t he be? It was his mixed feelings for Rose that were betraying his and Soph’s friendship. How was that... How had he made that even possible?

Harry and Soph had a pact of loyalty to each other – it was unspoken, but it was there. Soph would always come before any flirty one-night stands, Harry would always be the top of the list of males (not including Adam, of course) that Soph loved. Harry didn’t want that broken. Soph would never break that, so how could he let himself?

Finally, Harry spoke.

“Tell Zayn where we’ve gone.” Harry murmured, heading for the door. Rose was instantly on her feet – she could tell Harry wasn’t going to wait around for her to give Liam goodbye kisses. “And tell him why.”

“Harry.” Yaser said warningly, but Harry ignored him as he and Rose rushed out, Liam watching them go with a carefully blank expression. Rose ran to catch up with Harry, as they both stormed off.

Tricia looked up at her husband as she stood, wiping her face.

“Yas, do you want to explain to me what’s going on?”

*

Zayn was muttering something. His throat felt clogged up, his eyelids felt heavy... But he found himself muttering, the same thing, repeatedly.

“She’s on her way, mate.” Niall muttered, clamping a hand on Zayn’s shoulder, the rest of them all surrounding Zayn’s bed. “She’s on her way.”

“Zayn, baby?” Tricia said, her voice thick with tears. Zayn lolled his head to the side, his entire body aching. “Zayn, it’s me, it’s Mum, what do you want?”

Zayn murmured something again and Tricia and Yaser both leant forward, desperate to hear what he had to say.

“What, baby, what is it?” Tricia asked softly, squeezing Zayn’s hand.

Zayn forced himself to speak louder, Liam, Niall and Louis exchanging glances as they heard him.

“Soph.”

*

Soph and Iftikhar stood by the riverside, watching the lights of Tower Bridge twinkling in its reflection in the River Thames.

Soph could feel her heart stuttering in her chest, her fists clenched, her body tense and waiting for the inevitable fight to come.

“You know, I’ve never had this problem with any of the women in my family before.” Iftikhar said quietly. “One of your aunts had a love marriage and our relationship still hasn’t recovered, and her eldest is a teenager now. But... Never this.”

Soph said nothing.

“I thought you didn’t want to get married young? Was that just a ploy, so you could find someone yourself?” Bitterness seeped into Iftikhar’s voice, neither father nor daughter looking at one another. “Why didn’t you just say, father, I plan on humiliating you, don’t bother pretending it was worthwhile for you to sacrifice your life and bring my mother and I into the whole family, I’m only going to dishonour you?”

“I haven’t dishonoured-” Soph began through gritted teeth.

“Shut up, Soph.” Iftikhar spat, before laughing to himself. If Soph didn’t know him any better, she’d say he was drunk. But Iftikhar had enough faults in the eyes of his children without having to be a drunkard; he didn’t touch the stuff. “My daughter. My precious daughter. Yeah fucking right.”

They fell into silence again, one that Soph found deafening.

“I didn’t plan this, you know.” Soph said quietly. Iftikhar barely glanced at her. “Despite what you may think. This isn’t some giant conspiracy.”

“Alright, Soph.” Iftikhar replied tiredly. “You know, I’ve never been able to put a smile on your face. That’s all I ever wanted, to make my daughter smile. Obviously keeping her honourable and a good person and a God-fearing young woman, as well.”

“Obviously.” Soph muttered.

“And you’ve never let me do that. You always have an issue with me. I know you don’t think much of me as a father, and even less as a man, but can’t you at least admit I tried?” It wasn’t a real question, Iftikhar and Soph both knew that. Anyway, they both knew the answer would be no, even if it had been. “What did I do that was so wrong?”

Soph made a noise of poorly-disguised disgust at the back of her throat. Iftikhar turned to her.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Well, obviously there is something, so just say it.” Iftikhar said irritatedly.

“This isn’t about you.” Soph told him, clear amazement at his audacity on her pretty – albeit currently slightly swollen – features. “This isn’t even about me, not that much. It’s the situation, not the people. Someone wants to marry me, who isn’t my cousin. You want me married. I don’t want to marry my cousin. I’ve never particularly shown an interest in getting married, especially so young to you or... Him, but as long as I’m still alive, I’ll always be an option for that creep. Logically speaking, the explanation would be for me to marry Zayn.”

“Logically, this never would have happened if I hadn’t humoured you and let you do journalism!” Iftikhar shot back. “Logically, darling, he shouldn’t marry you, because he isn’t from the same caste, he has a white mother, he clearly doesn’t have the right values if he’s gallivanting around singing for a living and he’s a goddamn womanizer!” Iftikhar’s voice rose with every word, something anybody other than Soph would have found intimidating. As it happened, she was used to it.

“I thought you told me the caste system didn’t matter?” Soph snapped.

“I’m your father, don’t use that tone with me.” Iftikhar said warningly, and Soph had to move her belligerent eyes away from his. “And I changed my mind.”

You stupid, childish man, Soph thought.

“I won’t do it without your consent.” Soph said in a low voice. “I’m not dishonouring you. In any way.”

“If you didn’t have my consent, neither of you would make it to the wedding alive.” Iftikhar said angrily. “No, actually, before you get ideas, that’s wrong; it’d just be like you never existed, I’d divorce your mother, take Adam and make sure he never saw either of you again.”

“He’d want to see us!” Soph burst, before she could help herself.

Iftikhar turned to her with fiery eyes.

“Do you want a bet, by the time I’ve finished with him?” Iftikhar challenged. “I know you think he’s just your brother and your mother’s son, but he’s mine too, he wouldn’t be here without me.”

A price we’ve all had to pay, Soph thought bitterly.

“Well, it’s not like that’s going to happen anyway.” Soph said lowly.

“Well, it might.” Iftikhar said, mimicking her tone slightly. “Your name has been linked with his now. People will talk. And then who else but your cousin will ask for you? If people find out – when people find out – do you know the damage this will cause? Do you know how much you’ll damage your step-sister’s potential proposals?”

Step-sister, Soph mentally corrected. Big difference.

“I. Am not. Marrying. My cousin.” Soph forced out. “You always said I had a choice!”

“Have you left me with one?” Iftikhar retorted, raising his eyebrows.

“I’m not doing it.” Soph muttered under her breath. Iftikhar pretended he hadn’t heard her.

Silence took hold of the conversation once more, and Soph forced herself to focus on the ripples of the water, caused by the light breeze. How must it feel, that water? To never be still, to always be moving, to never be fully at peace?

“Do you think it’d make you happy?” Iftikhar asked suddenly. “Marrying him?”

“Zayn?” Soph clarified. Iftikhar nodded, with a roll of his eyes, clearly thinking Soph too suspicious. It was something she’d had to learn, being his daughter. “I don’t know, but I’ve got a Hell of a better chance than being forced to marry someone.”

“No-one’s forcing you.” Iftikhar muttered, turning away.

“Yet.” Soph corrected.

“You know that if you married him, when it went wrong – which it would, you’re too young and naive and he’s just playing you – you’d have no family backing you?” Iftikhar questioned, his voice pushy. Soph kept her eyes trained on the water, forcing herself to take deep, subtle breaths through her nose to calm herself before she answered. “You’d have no support, nobody to console you, because it would’ve been your own choice, you would have pushed it.”

“Not having your support would have applied anyway.” Soph snorted. Because you hate me anyway.

“No, it wouldn’t have, Soph, no, it wouldn’t have.” Iftikhar sighed. “I swore I’d kill any of my daughters before they did this to me, don’t think you’re special.”

“Not for a second.” Soph muttered, pursing her lips in an irritated, accidentally pouty line.

“Your mother wouldn’t like him.” Iftikhar continued, after Soph spoke no further. “She’d pretend, but she wouldn’t really.”

Soph thought this conversation was so pointless and pathetic at this point, it wasn’t even worth her rolling her eyes anymore.

Silence lapsed again.

Centuries seemed to have passed when Iftikhar spoke again.

“Would it make you happy, Soph?” He looked at his daughter seriously, his dark green eyes boring into her dark brown eyes, so alike Robina’s, but with more... Fire, more aggression, more hatred. And although it had never bothered him before – she’d understand him one day – for some reason, it bothered him now. “Would it finally put a smile on your face? For good, this time?”

“You never know if anything is for good.” Soph replied with a shrug, surprisingly wise for someone so angry. “But right now, yeah. Yeah, yes, I think it would.”

Iftikhar nodded slowly and he felt himself bow his head in resignation. He’d swore he’d never bow his head for anyone. Yet he was doing it now. Someone would pay for it, oh, he could promise that, but right then, he just felt very tired and very... Old.

“Come on.” He muttered, pushing himself away from the stone ledge and the river.

“Where are we going?” Soph asked warily. If he was organizing a family intervention and he thought she’d prefer that over diving, right now, headfirst into the Thames, he was on fucking crack.

“Just come with me before I change my goddamn mind and just shoot you instead.” Iftikhar muttered, skulking ahead of her.

Soph stared at her father’s back with open dislike, her mouth agape at his unnecessarily harsh words.

“Charming.” She retorted under her breath, shaking her head in disgust and following him.

*

“What do you mean, you can’t find her?” Zayn demanded, wincing as he sat up in bed, fighting the anaesthetic still in his body. Rose’s eyes were red and Harry just looked petrified. His parents were silent beside him. “It’s nearly one in the fucking morning, how can you just leave her?”

“Zayn-”

“You made her go, just don’t!” Zayn said accusingly at his father, hissing in pain as he forced himself upright. Tricia fussed over him uselessly, but Zayn ignored her. “I know how to handle it, I know how to handle her, I-”

They all stopped as the door swung open, Iftikhar and Sophia Khan standing in the doorway.

Everything... Stopped.

“How are you feeling?” Iftikhar asked bluntly.

“Uncle.” Zayn’s eyes widened, hastily going to get up, before remembering his pain. Soph winced as she heard him bite back a shout, looking the other way. “Better.”

“Good enough to talk?” Iftikhar’s eyes flickered to Yaser’s for permission, almost. “Alone?”

Zayn didn’t hesitate in the slightest.

“Of course.”

The rest of them filed out, Soph prepared to go with them, but Iftikhar stopped her.

“Soph, wait.”

Hesitantly, she did. Tricia and Yaser were the last to leave, Yaser making a point of closing the door behind him.

“You’re  messing with my izaat.” Iftikhar told Zayn warningly, talking of his respect.

“That wasn’t my intent-”

“It doesn’t matter, you are.” Iftikhar interrupted. “Normally, I wouldn’t do this. I haven’t even spoken to her mother yet. But her name has been linked with yours and now even if I thought you were the scum of the Earth, it wouldn’t make a difference.”

Zayn and Soph glanced at each other.

“If you do this...” Iftikhar looked carefully at them both. “You can’t go back. You’re screwing up your own lives.”

“I don’t think-” Zayn began.

“Be quiet.” Iftikhar demanded. “I won’t take responsibility. I won’t have my family’s name tarnished more.” Iftikhar stood up, from the seat he’d taken behind Zayn. Soph was still standing in the doorway. “You’ve got one minute to decide.”

“Decide what?” Soph asked in confusion.

Iftikhar looked at her evenly.

“If you still want to marry each other.” With that, he left the room, leaving Zayn and Soph wide-eyed behind him.

Within seconds, Soph was by Zayn’s side.

“Let’s do it, Soph.” Zayn said instantly, but Soph wasn’t listening.

“Are you okay? What happened? You had me so worried, Zayn, I thought – I thought that you-”

“It doesn’t matter, I’m fine now.” Zayn smiled, his heart warming at Soph’s evident care. “Soph, we haven’t got a lot of time to decide, I think we-”

“As your head of publicity, I’m telling you that you can’t afford to commit yourself to this.” Soph told him seriously. “Your career only just restarted, you have so much ahead of you, you still don’t know what direction your life is going in, I-”

“You’re my direction.”

Soph stopped.

“... What?” She whispered in disbelief.

“You’re my direction.” Zayn took her hand and Soph could only limply comply. “My only direction.”