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

Chapter Eleven | If Harry is Apollo

"Wakey, wakey, sunshine."

He feels warm fingertips barely graze the skin at his temple as they lightly run through his hair.

Zayn slightly leans into the touch, nuzzling his face in his pillow and smacking his lips together as he slowly comes to. His eyes immediately snap open once he does and he remembers where he is.

The sight before– or above him, really, instantly causes his eyebrows to pull together and his nose to scrunch up a bit in confusion.

"Harry?"

The golden boy hovering over his head beams down at him, the light reflecting off his person through the door making him appear even more celestial and godlike than usual. "Good morning, beautiful."

Zayn pushes himself to sit up in the back seat of Liam's car. "Are we here already?"

"If by 'here,' you mean B's Brekky," Harry declares, "then sure."

"What?"

"We made a small stop. The others are inside eating breakfast. I thought that I'd bring you this." He moves the hand that he's had behind his back to present him with a white paper bag with two fancy 'B's printed on it.

"Everyone was saying that I should've waited until we arrived and you'd woken up for me to give it to you, and I know that I'm risking facing your clearly I'm not a morning person wrath by not listening to them, but I didn't want it to get cold," he explains before reaching out to pat one of his legs. "Move over."

Zayn sets the pillow in his lap and slides down to make room for him. "How long was I asleep?"

Harry closes the door behind him. "About an hour and a half."

"Mm," he hums, accepting the bag. "What is it?"

"Muffins," he answers and gestures to two drinks in Liam's cupholder that he didn't notice before, "and Louis told me how you take your coffee."

Zayn smiles gratefully at him then, picking up the one with his name on it. "You know, you can actually be really sweet sometimes. Have I ever told you that?"

"That I'm sweet?" Harry asks. "No. That I'm your suffering personified? Yes, but I can see how you'd get those two confused."

He grins. "Cheers, idiot."

"Well, I couldn't leave you here all alone with nothing to eat after you took care of me so well the other day, now could I? Maybe this is my way of thanking you."

"But you already did, Styles. The next morning, remember? You didn't have to do it again, and you didn't have to bring me breakfast either. Don't you want to be inside eating with the others?" Eating with Catalina? He isn't sure why his mind tacks that on at the end.

"Do you?" The question is easily turned on him.

No, his mind answers for him, but, "Yes," his mouth dishonestly answers out loud, "but I'm not going out in public with my hair looking like this," he limply lifts his flat hair that's currently void of product, "so that means that I'm stuck in here, and if I have to be stuck in here, then you do too, since you're the one who woke me up in the first place."

Harry looks amused. "Can't argue with that flawless logic."

"I actually ate before I left home though, so do you wanna share?" He takes a bite out of one of the muffins before offering it to Apollo.