3 Works by mageeenta
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"I did a very bad thing," Brad tells him in between sobs. He hiccups, tugging at the wet sleeves of his jumper. "I did a very bad thing, James. You're going to hate me."
"Brad, sit down." He guides the smaller boy into the hotel room as a lamp flicks on, Tristan questioningly sitting up in the bed and eyeing their bandmate.
"Why are you all wet?" Tristan inquires, voice deepened with exhaustion.
"I did a very bad thing," he repeats to himself. He can't stop crying, or shaking, or get the image of Connor's dead body out of his head. He can't believed he killed him. It didn't even feel like he'd done it. He hadn't even known he'd moved a muscle.
or, the one where horoscopes turn out to be more than words printed on a newspaper.
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the four times zayn says hi and the one time he doesn't
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zayn likes to pose for harry and harry likes to watch him.
