Saturday, January 2, 2016

Lost and Found

Every year, I set a goal to myself to read a certain amount of books through Goodreads Reading Challenge. In 2015 (which just ended two days ago, apparently), I admit that I became too lazy to read because I discovered the world of fanfics and I liked it so much. Loved it, even. It's a whole different world for me but I am so emotionally invested. And I have TONS of favorites. Who would have thought that fanfics writers are so talented? They are as amazing as "real" writers, the ones who write books and sell them at stores. One of my favorite fanfics is titled Lost and Found by Ivy. She's one of the best in the fandom. She's, like, the legend. One time she wrote a fanfic called Keep the Car Running and people went mental. But that's story for another time. Basically, everything she writes is to die for. She is THAT good.

So, Lost and Found. The story revolves around Z and H, who met at a bar for the first time because H foiled a mugging and it made him a local hero. But not long after that, H got a terror message from someone mysterious. He kept getting them and because it really really really bothered him, he asked Z to help him since Z worked as a police officer. Long story short, H and Z became close. TOO CLOSE. And I was happy. But of fucking course Ivy didn't want her readers to just feel happy. She put this twist into the plot and it was so great and jaw-dropping and heart-wrenching and I just wanted to strangle myself with a wire. That plot twist made the relationship between Z and H somehow broken. They became apart and decided to take different path in life and I was so fucking sad.

BUT, Ivy wrote this super amazing epilogue where they met again after seven years without contacting each other. They had this rather awkward conversation but oh it was my number one favorite part of Lost and Found. And it went like this:

"Okay so I was at the doctor last week-" 
"If this is anything to do with phlegm," Zayn interrupts, pointing at him. 
"Of course not!" Harry almost bites his finger. "I was just going to say that while I was in the waiting room I read an article about how our bodies regenerate themselves. Apparently, every seven years, every cell in our bodies dies and is replaced with new ones." 
Zayn doesn’t look any more reassured. 
"Okay. That sounds a bit weird," Harry concedes, tilting his head from side to side. "But I don’t know how else to tell you that I’ve changed. There’s not a bit of me that you still know, Zayn. Not a cell, a strand of hair, nothing. I am someone else, inside and out." 
"Okay," Zayn says, eyeing him as it to say, Where are you going with this? 
Where is he going? 
Into a brick wall, probably. 
But he persists. 
"You’re the only part of me that hasn’t changed." Harry hears Zayn’s breath catch in his throat and it’s enough to convince him to keep going. "You’re the only thing my heart still remembers." Harry raises his arm to touch the nape of his neck. "My heart and the hair on the back of my neck and my hands." He holds them out to show him how much they’re shaking. "I know how crazy that sounds," Harry says with a small smile. "And I know I fucked everything up – I know I did – but this me hasn’t even met you and it knows. Look." 
Zayn looks down at his hands, then up at him. 
"I’m not asking you to give me another chance," Harry puts his arms down, "because I know we’re way beyond that. But if there’s any part of you that remembers me too, then." 
"Then what, Harry?" 
Then do something, Harry wants to yell. But he doesn’t and Zayn doesn’t do anything, so Harry nods and turns away. But before he can, Zayn reaches for Harry’s hand and presses it to his chest until Harry feels the familiar flutter of his heart and he smiles because it’s better than a breathless speech, better than a heart on a window. 
It’s all he needs to hear.

NOW HOW COULD I NOT FREAK OUT TO READ SOMETHING AS BEAUTIFUL AS THAT? I know I sound pathetic, I've been told like that by some of my friends. I don't take it seriously though. I couldn't care less. It's just that my ship (zarry, zarry, zarry!) makes me so happy although I know they're dead as hell. And that's the thing! We know they're not real and the possibility of them to be together is probably zero so we just stay in our own lane reminiscing the good old days. Sometimes we also like to take the piss out of other shippers by saying that zarry is the realest and throw any receipts we can find to them. But we're just joking around, no harm intended. That's why I love being a zarrie, despite the fact that the ship itself is so full of angst. I love the pain.

No comments:

Post a Comment