❛ SUPERMARKET FLOWERS ♪ ❜ - z. herron

sixty: you're worth it.

"Go into the bathroom, I'll be there in a second." I say, grabbing the keys from Zach and shutting the front door.

"Are you seducing me?" Zach asks, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Shut up." I say, walking into the kitchen and grabbing the first aid kit.

As I walk in, I notice a notepad with a pen laid on top of it. Usually, I'm not highly nosy, but something about this pad made me desperately want to look. I look over to see two lines sprawled in Zach's handwriting. The realization sets in that these are lyrics.

"It's hard to sing along to songs that people sing when they're happy,

I should win a Grammy."

I wonder when he wrote these. I guess it's really been a while since I've seen him because as I sift through these notes, they are full of lyrics. Not much is written, nothing more than 2 lines.

"Ira, are you coming?" Zach's voice echos.

I quickly grab the first aid box from the cabinet, putting the pad just as I had found it. "Yeah, I'm coming." I say, jogging up the hallway.

I walk in, seeing him standing inside, scrolling on his phone. He sees me, shoving the device in his pocket. "Helloo beautiful." He smiles, sitting up on the sink, so he's level with me.

He holds out his hand so I can look at it. Not much is done to it; 2 cuts rest on his knuckles while his fingers start to bruise slightly. "The boys are going to kill you." I say, opening up the kit to begin cleaning his hand. "How are you supposed to play with your hand like this?"

He grins, "It was so worth it. Did you see his face?"

"Yeah, the blood dripping down his lip? Totally appealing." I say, lightly tapping the cuts. He winces at first but softens his hand in my palm.

"That hurts." He inhales as I continue to dab the alcohol wipes, trying my best to make sure they aren't infection-prone.

"I bet that's what Nate said when your fist collided with his face." I say, grabbing bandages. "Where'd you learn to hit like that?"

"Hey! Boy Bands have strength. Plus, whenever we are on tour or have off time, we work out. Boxing every once in a while is a part of my workout routine. But today I actually had a reason to use it." He says, watching me place ointment on his hand.

I look up from his hand, "You've never socked another guy?" He shakes his head. "Ever?" My eyes widen.

He takes a second to register before replying, "Not for a girl, no. I've had like small schoolyard fights when I was way younger but I haven't had a reason to hurt someone recently."

"So then why did you?" I ask, going back to wrapping his hand.

"You're worth it." He says nonchalantly.

I chuckle, "Zachary Dean, did you just say I'm worth you hitting another guy and hurting your hand, which your bandmates will probably hate me for?" I bat my eyelashes, putting my hand to my chest sarcastically.

"Yeah, pretty much exactly what I said. You should also call me my full name a lot more, it's hot coming out of your mouth."

"I'll keep that in mind." I say, adding the tape to finish the bandage. "All done." I say, lightly tapping it.

"Kiss it better." He says, holding it in front of my face.

My face dissatisfied, "That doesn't even work."