[ Like this --- Shawn Mendes ]

It's since I arrived in Nottingham that I have been trying to keep every reason related to my transfer hidden, what and who I left behind and that no other place will probably never be able to return.

Often it was difficult, because most of the time the weight of everything poured on my shoulders; in those I would have liked someone to hold them up for me, to help me take some of my pain, that weight that when reminds me of existing takes my breath away.

However, I am still not ready to do it now, to let myself go and to allow myself to try to share it with someone other than myself. It's just different with Harry, and every time I realize it more and more. It scares me the way I feel when I'm with him.

I sigh and close my eyes for a few seconds. "Six months ago I was convinced that I had everything in my hands and could do whatever I wanted with it," I begin, and from the way Harry turns to me, I understand that he didn't expect an answer different from all the others.

I take a short break and look in front of me: I observe the people who are here tonight and who seemingly seem happy, yet nobody will ever know for sure what they are really going through. Nobody will know about the battles they are fighting to not lose themselves.

I look down at my legs again. "Then that all slipped away. It ran off leaving me with worn and empty hands for something I thought I had, but in reality maybe I never had. "

"You don't have to continue if you don't really want to, Ariel." Harry touches my leg with one hand and I bring my attention first to this and then again to him. He does not look at me with compassion or as if he should be ready to grab me at any moment to avoid rushing me.

"Six months ago I lost my mother. And this is the fundamental reason why I am here, why I ran away from a place I could no longer call home. " My voice is reduced to whispers, but I made it.
I survived.

"I'm sorry," Harry says quietly as he searches for my hand, which he finds and which he squeezes slowly in his. "Forgive me, I shouldn't have pushed you to talk about it."

I turn to him and shake my head. "No, Harry. I'm fine."

Then I still feel that weight return to intensify, along with the tears that form on the sides of the eyes. But like every time nothing happens; they stop for a moment before they manage to slip on my face. This is what pushes me to continue, the switch that makes me jump to my feet when the words leave my mouth. "Do you know what hurts instead?"

Harry looks at me with attention and surprise at the same time, because he has never seen me this way and because he knows that I am going to reach the point of no return.

"It hurts that I've never shed a tear for her since her death. At her funeral, I couldn't even keep silent next to her grave, because I was too busy and obsessed with the thought of reaching her. " I raise a hand to cover my mouth and feel the breath to accelerate; the pain is always there. I tremble: it is as if I were crying without any tears running through my face.

"Come here," says Harry, and as he does so I'm already in his arms. I have my head resting on his chest and one of his hands is in my hair, while the other moves slowly on my back. I let myself be hugged by him and for a moment I let myself be saved by myself and all that I carry inside me.

We both remain like this, and only at this moment do I realize how much I needed it. Of a sincere contact, of being supported and of someone who would not let me fall when I would have been ready to open up more. Somehow I already knew that in him I would find the understanding I knew I needed.

It is only when we hear footsteps getting closer that we move away. Zayn does not take long to reach us.

"You're here," he says, a hint of a smile on his lips as he then glides his gaze between me and Harry.

"What's up?" the latter asks, running a hand through his hair.

"You're called, it's time for the cake," Zayn warns him, nodding to the direction we came from. Harry nods and turns away, giving me one last smile.

Zayn is in front of me and watches me carefully, as if he suddenly realized what happened.

"Are you okay?" he asks me at the end, getting closer. I hide every test in the way I've always done; I recompose quickly and smile at him.

"Sure," I say, and he doesn't seem to doubt my words too much. We go back to the others while holding a hand resting on the base of my back.

🌹

Tara smiles a lot and her eyes smile with her while she is behind the main table with her parents; they both say something and toast together. I smile because I have lived through moments like this, and because I remember only now that I have lost them. Her mother embraces her and I look up to the sky, to one star brighter than the others.

"I miss you so much, Mum," I whisper, before looking back down and finding Harry's. We stare at each other for seconds that seem minutes, both fully aware of the reason. It's Tara to involuntarily break that contact, so he approaches her.

"I have a surprise," he says, and we all follow them to the back of the garden. A piano dominates the whole space; rose petals are scattered on it and on the grass. It doesn't even seem real, it can't be.

Tara covers her mouth with one hand and Harry lets go of his hand slowly, before walking over to the piano and sitting down. He runs his fingers over the keys and then starts playing, letting his hands caress every single note of the song.

Zayn brings a hand to my side, drawing me closer to him. I rest my head on his shoulder as I continue to observe the beauty of the moment and of
Harry, who is confident and determined, continues to slide his fingers from one part of the instrument to the other, entering into full symbiosis with it. His eyes are turned on his hands; the forehead is slightly frowned and its expression concentrated. The moment he stops applause and whistles of encouragement surround him, but he doesn't care; she gets up and approaches Tara, who in tears rests her lips on hers. He touches her back with his hands, then whispers "Happy birthday."

"I love you," he adds later in response to Tara's.

"Give me a chance, Ariel," Zayn whispers taking me to look at him, and on his face I read a different sincerity than all the other times he asked me to give him.

"Yes" then I answer in a whisper. Zayn looks at me as if I told him otherwise.

"Will you go out with me?" asks me for confirmation; I smile and nod.

"I'll go out with you."

"I hadn't planned it," he admits as a light laugh leads him to shake his head and smile widely.

"I can still refuse if you want."

The way he quickly wakes up makes me smile. "No, no. I just wasn't expecting you to change your mind so soon. "

"Neither do I," I admit, but he no longer asks me questions when I say it.

It was watching Harry and Tara together like that, that made me give Zayn a chance; to give me a chance. I will never know what I really need if I don't really start living, if I don't start again with what could make me feel good. Then I just have to look at Zayn to confirm that I made the right decision.

🌹

It is past midnight and we all approach to greet her; next to her is Harry. Louis and Eleanor are the first to meet her, then it is Niall's turn and finally that of
Danielle, who arrived a little late.

Stephan holds Tara in his arms until he raises her, making her smile. The last ones are me and Zayn; he comes first and leaves her a light kiss on the cheek before going to Harry, but I am now with her, who does not hesitate to hug me once again.

"I'm really glad you came," she whispers in my hair.

I smile at you sincerely. "Me too."

"Ready?" Zayn then asks me to move my gaze to Harry.

"Bye, Ariel Green," he murmurs, and in the way we look at each other there is something that only the two of us understand.

"Bye, Harry."
We all go back to the entrance, where the same girl from the beginning gives us back everything we had left.

"I can accompany you if you want," Zayn proposes when Stephan approaches me.

"I'm on the street," he replies in a tone I can't recognize in Stephan.

"I don't mind doing it," Zayn replies in a similar tone and shrugs. I move my gaze on both and then I approach Zayn. I agreed to go out with him but the relationship I have with Stephan is different, and I had already told him that I would be back with him.

"I'm going with Stephan, don't run too much," I tell him, and from the way he looks at me and smiles at me I know he understood that I'm not just referring to going home.

"You're right," he says, raising his hands in surrender. "I don't want you to take the word back."

He presses his lips to my cheek as he holds my hip with one hand, looks at me one last time and then walks away.

I go back to Stephan. "What did that mean?"

Stephan takes a helmet and passes it to me. "Why should you go back on your word?"

"I'll go out with him," I tell him as I pick up the helmet and put it on in a quick movement.

Stephan doesn't say anything, but I know him enough to realize he's hiding something from me. “And only for one evening, Stephan. I don't want to plan anything. "

"I just want you to be fine," he confesses and gets on the bike. I do the same, positioning myself behind him and girding his chest with his arms. I know he feels protective of me, we spent a lot of time together and I don't mind anymore than he should.

He stops in front of my building, I get off the bike and take off my helmet and then return it to him. "Goodnight, and thanks for the ride."

"Goodnight, Ariel," he wished me with a smile before turning and walking away on the streets of Nottingham.

I go up the steps and open the bag to retrieve the keys. I move my hands several times inside, but I can't find them. I take off my cell phone and let the rest of the contents fall into my hands, and that's how I actually realize I don't have them. I reach out to be able to look in the lobby and find that it's not there either
Philip, then I check the time on my cell phone; it's one in the morning and I don't know what to do.
Resigned, I sit on the stairs and try to call my father, but he doesn't answer.
The only solution I see at the moment is only to hope that he is going to come back and stay here waiting for me while I squeeze more and more in the light jacket I wear, letting my head fall against the wall behind me.

I close my eyes and sigh, then the noise of a car calls my attention. He stops in front of the stairs and I get slightly more forward, because I can't recognize the car. It is only when the door is opened that I have confirmation: it is not my father.

🌹🌹🌹

FROM THE AUTHOR:

Question of the questions: who do you think will get out of that car? And what do you think of Zayn?

Also comment with various opinions on the chapter, I can only be happy!
Good day,

Chiara