Magnolia in May [H.S]

Part sixty-nine.

"It's a little bit funny,"
"This feeling inside,"

"I'm not one of those who can easily hide,"

"So excuse me forgetting,"
"But these things I do."
"You see I've forgotten, if they're green or they're blue."

This part is a rollercoaster, so strap in. Over 12,000 words... My emotions went through whiplash writing this. Please vote and comment your thoughts my darlings.
I love you all <33

— -

Magnolia

The forthcoming shock trickled into confusion, deep grounding confusion. My mind was sincerely boggled as I gape back at the golden-yellow brown eyes. Blinking my lashes to try and understand the given situation.

Bits and pieces of my lucidity hone in on the trees waving in the background, sprinkling an array of fairy lights. In the foreground lie tables aplenty, behind a blurred aqua-toned picture of children jumping on a trampoline entertained. Whimsical was the way to describe it, serene. A gloss of the skies effect, deep darkening blue stole our sight.

Before I can aid my lack of knowledge Harry extols deeply through his nose, catching me off guard. In an instant my attention is gifted to him, watching the calculations play out on his sharp intimidating features.

"Zayn's—" He stops, stumbling over disorientation, in the briefest of moments glancing back at Harley. A dash or more of dominance in his stare.

"You're his kid?" His attempts to shed light are desperate, toned in a way that sounded annoyed. Though knowing him, I knew it didn't mean to come off jaded. If resting bitch face translated into a tone of voice he had it.

Harley nods, I can see a bit of emotion glaze over his scruffy face. Figuring out it was also a lack of understanding. We were all slightly confused.

"You two know each other?" He elaborates, ridding of the turbulence.

"You could say that," Harry says sharply, sizing Zayn up like they were seconds away from a brawl. I see the tactics he's using, pressing my hand firmly into the inner of his arm to assure him. As well as myself.

This wasn't exactly the time to be all macho. I hoped he understood that.

Looking at Zayn sent flashbacks from months ago, a snowy cold setting. High up in the mountains accompanied by the ski lifts and underage drinking. I remembered Harry and I's fight, how he blew up on me, and then we had the best makeup sex. A hot steaming bathtub where he opened up to me about his mom.

"He went on the skiing trip with us- he's Louis' friend." I poke in, gingerly letting the words bleed from between my perspiring lips. In the process of everything going on, I somehow manage to keep eye-contact with Harley. Flicking it between him and Zayn.

"He's friends with the rich boys," Harry says firmly, just by the blank tone I know it's meant as a jab. He was being bitter, clenching his jaw and composing a closed-off stature. Not even trying to hide the vexation, that much dropped my stomach.

Did he really think that low of Zayn for hanging out with the rich kids? It seemed kind of hypocritical considering he's perfectly fine fucking one.

"Louis- yeah," Zayn scoffs, showing his shiny pristine smile, he takes his unharmed gaze from Harry. Glancing over with the same half-sincere look. Pointing a finger at me before letting his deepened raspy voice speak, "He's so smitten over you... For a good reason." The snicker in his tone gets caught up, trailing out in more of an exhale.