The Beautiful Escape [ZARRY]

33

Zayn's dramatic exit was ruined by the fact that he narrowly avoided colliding with the solid bulk Harry Styles on his way out.

"Woah there." He'd have fallen rather than accept the arm Harry tried to offer; it wasn't easy, as Harry was carrying a large hamper balanced on the curve of his functioning elbow, and his thoughtful action almost sent it to the floor. 

"What are you doing here?" The tense, scratchy thing didn't sound like his voice at all. Making a superhuman effort, he pulled himself together and stepped back away from Harry's chest- and the temptation to lay his head on it. 

Even holding his breath, he could still smell the fresh fragrance that emanated from Harry's warm skin, so he gave up on what was not really a practical long-term solution to his problem to begin with. 

"That's no way to greet a guy carrying gifts, Zayn."

Zayn hadn't even noticed the twins and Yaser, who had entered the kitchen behind Harry- when he was around Zayn didn't tend to notice much else.

"Cool!" Daniaal cried, holding up a large box of Belgian chocolates and adding them to the pile of luxury items he and Safaa were extracting from the hamper they'd set down on the table.

Zayn glanced at the growing pile- there was no way Harry got that little lot from the nearby shop. 

"This is mine," Safaa cackled, discovering a bottle of champagne. 

Clicking his tongue tolerantly, his father removed the bottle from his disheartened daughter's hand. "This is really very generous of you, Harry..."

"A small thank-you for everything you've done for me."

"It wasn't really necessary," Yaser insisted.

"Dad, you're not going to give it back, are you?" Safaa asked alarmed. 

"How did we raise two such avaricious little monsters?" The twins exchanged rueful grins. "What the twins are trying to say, Harry, is the gift is much appreciated. Can we offer you a drink, it looks like there's one on the go... Zayn?" 

"In case nobody noticed, I'm busy," he responded shortly.

If his father had looked annoyed by his unneighbourly response he could have coped, but no, he had to go and look hurt and guilty.

"I suppose," he responded worriedly, "we have let a lot of things fall on your shoulders." He turned to Harry. "It's just that my wife usually-"

"I enjoy it, Dad," Zayn interrupted hurriedly, hating the forlorn expression on his father's face and despising himself for putting it there. "Actually, I was just off to pick up the tree. Anyone would like to come?" he inquired. He was predictably underwhelmed by the response. "Right, I'll be off then."

"If you don't mind, I wouldn't mind coming along for the ride." 

Zayn spun around, horror etched on his pale features. "You?!"

"I'm getting a bit stir-crazy, unable to drive," Harry explained offhandedly to the room in general.

"You'd be bored," Zayn said several shades too emphatically.

"I think that's an excellent idea," Yaser responded firmly, objection in his eyes.

Doniya spoke for the first time. "I'm sure Zayn will enjoy the company."

Zayn shot his difficult narrow-minded sister a seething look under the sweep of his lashes. "There will be lashings of mud." Nobody paid Zayn any attention.

With a sigh, Zayn subsided into resentful silence.

"You look awfully pale, Zayn."

Thanks, sis, Zayn thought as Doniya's contribution to the conversation brought him a lot of highly undesirable attention.

"Yes, he does, doesn't he?" Yaser agreed. "Are you feeling alright?"

"Absolutely fine."

"It's probably sleep deprivation," Doniya continued smoothly. "He's not been sleeping too well." She wasn't looking at her brother but at the tall figure who stood beside Zayn. The two of them exchanged a long look. 

"Is that right? You didn't say so, Zayn."

"Lot on my mind, Dad..." he muttered. "Holidays are always the same, it takes me the first week to wind down."

"Zayn is a computer analyst," his proud father explained to Harry. "He has a very responsible job."

Zayn cringed. "Give the man a break, Dad," he laughed uncomfortably. "I'm sure Mr Styles doesn't want to know about my work."

Doniya, of course, couldn't resist stirring the pot. "You mean, he doesn't already?"

"If you've got nothing better to do, Doni, you could take a look at the Christmas lights for me." He felt a surge of satisfaction as his sister looked suitable horrified at the prospect. "They don't seem to be working."

"I think," Doniya announced hopefully, "that it's time we bought some new ones."

"You can't d that, Doni!" Safaa protested. "We've had them forever..."

"My point exactly," Doniya muttered. "It's the same every year, they never work."

"I remember the time that cat, that one that had no tail," Daniaal began.

"Dobby," his twin supplied.

Doniya decided to inject a little reality into this trip down memory lane. "I remember the time they fused the electrics while Mum was cooking Christmas dinner..."

There was a collective subdued gasp of dismay and all eyes turned to Yaser. 

"Far be it from me to break with tradition," Doniya put in quickly. "I'll fix the damned things."

"You all seem pretty protective of your father," Harry observed as he trailed Zayn outside.

"Stepfather, but yes, I suppose we are."

"Stepfather? That makes the twins your-?"

Zayn gave a resigned sigh. "Yaser adopted Doniya and me when he married Mum- I was five. Not that it's any of your business." Zayn stood beside the Land Rover, jingling the keys. "You can't want to come..." Please, please, let him say he doesn't. Zayn always had been a hopeless optimist. 

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