Oh, Won't You Let Me Burn (Won't You Let Us Conquer) [Zarry] [DISCONTINUED]

Chapter Six | When Apollo's Around

[Part 2 of 2]

Zayn gulps as he stares into Harry's lucent and hypnotic eyes.

In the back of his mind somewhere, he absently takes note of the fact that they've drawn closer once more, and, for the first time since he arrived at the beach, thinks that maybe his day isn't going so bad after all, thinks that maybe being stuck with Apollo isn't so bad after all.

That thought alone sparks panic within him, but it only increases tenfold when Harry steps even closer and whispers to him, "You have a freckle in your left eye," seemingly reflectively, voice all deep and low. "I don't think I ever noticed that before."

It compels Zayn to swallow thickly, and, "Yeah, it's–" he begins to say in response but pauses as he concurrently feels his heart rate start to rise and sweat pool in both of his palms. What the fuck– His fingers are itching and tingling at his side now too, like they always seem to do when Apollo's around, and suddenly, he's aware of how dry his throat is, so "– hot," he ends his statement abruptly and, frankly, quite stupidly as he struggles to contain the alarm that he can feel rising up inside of him.

He's not sure why that's the word that decided to make its way out of his mouth, but he can't take it back now, especially since it's already caused Harry's forehead to crease, and he does kind of feel like he's burning up from the inside out right now anyway.

"What?" He's asked in confusion though.

And Zayn can't really blame Harry for doing so, especially since he echoes, "Hot," just as daftly as he pulls his body back a step or ten from him. "It's– it's hot. Do you feel hot? Because I feel really hot," he adds, feeling the need to go on and clarify but really only making things worse as he does so.

Harry gazes back at him as if wondering if he's spontaneously completely lost it, but says, "I– I mean, I guess so," nonetheless, in that slow, careful way of his that does things to Zayn's stupid stomach. "Are you alright? Do you need me to open the window?"

He actually sounds truly concerned, and maybe Zayn should be grateful for that, but he just can't find it in himself to be, not when it's making every inch of his dumb skin go aflame even more.

"No. No, I think that I just realized how small it is in here and how little space there is, you know?" He tries to rationalize as he eyes his surroundings warily.

Harry raises his eyebrows at him, assessing him. "You... you just realized that?"

And, "Yes," he grumbles in reply, "that's why I said it."

His slightly snappy tone makes Apollo halt and frown pensively, a thought appearing to cross his mind in that instant. "Shit, are you– are you claustrophobic, Zayn?" He questions cautiously quiet then, peering at him with a soft green expression that shouldn't be nearly as heartwarming as it is, considering it's coming from him. "Is that why you wanted me to stay all the way over here and you over there?"

Zayn can see why he'd think that, he can. Hell, that'd probably even be easier to explain away, but, "No," he ducks his head, shaking it. "No, I just... I just feel really anxious all of a sudden," he exhales. You're making me feel really anxious all of a sudden.

The frown in front of him doesn't disappear like he hoped that it would. "Well, is there anything that I can do to help?"

You can stop looking at me like that. "Yeah, can you just give me some space again for a bit maybe?" is what he requests out loud instead.

Yeah, space. That's what he needs. The lack of in the last few minutes has really started to get to him and his mind, and he really needs it to just... stop.