Perhaps, Maybe, I Dunno (boyxboy)

Chapter 19

PLS DON'T HATE ME 4 NOT UPDATING ILY GUYS SORRY

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When Harry wakes up in the morning, the first thing he thinks is ‘Oh my god’. He never put the girls to bed, never even checked up on them after his “trip to the bathroom”. A million thoughts run through his head, and they mostly all end with Trisha hating him forever and banning him from coming over ever again. Fuck.

He runs downstairs at a speed that could rival Usain Bolt, and when he gets to the living room, he frantically searches the floor for the girls. He’s thinking, worst case scenario, they ate all of the sweets in the fridge, had the highest sugar high imaginable, then passed out on the couch. Actually, he’s hoping that’s what happened because he knows it could be a lot worse. Like right now, because the girls are nowhere to be found. Harry dashes upstairs to find Zayn. After he finds out that Harry neglected the girls, he’s probably never going to speak to him again, but finding them is more important.

“Zayn! Zayn, where are you?!” Harry calls out Zayn’s name as he dashes back up the stairs, pushing the limits of his physical capabilities.

“In here!” He hears Zayn’s voice coming from a room two doors down from Zayn’s. Harry runs toward the room, bracing himself for Zayn’s reaction. But when he opens the door, it’s not just Zayn, but Safaa and Waliyha sitting on the floor with him, painting his nails. Harry wants to laugh, out of relief and also at Zayn’s bright pink nails, but he doesn’t have any breath left in him. He leans over with his hands on his knees, struggling for air.

“Not much of a runner, are you?” Harry doesn’t even have to look up to know that Zayn is smiling.

“I don’t,” Harry says between breaths, “do. exercise.”

“Me neither,” says Safaa from the ground, nodding firmly at Harry, “Gym sucks.” Harry’s caught his breath by now, so he joins in with Waliyha and Zayn’s laughter.

“I’m so sorry that I didn’t come check on you guys,” Harry says in a rushed voice, unsure about how they feel towards him.

“It’s okay,” Waliyha says, offering him a soft smile.

“Yeah,” Safaa chimes in, “Zayn came and got us for you.” Harry cringes at the fact that Zayn had to do his job. He tries to make eye contact with Zayn, who’s sitting on the floor trying to look at everything but Harry. When they finally do make eye contact, Harry mouths a “sorry”, and Zayn just smiles hesitantly and shrugs at him. Harry’s frustrated, but he says nothing. If Zayn needs space, space is exactly what Harry will give him. He’ll do whatever, really. He just wants Zayn.

“Can we paint your nails too, Harry?” Safaa asks, looking up from Zayn’s pink nails. Zayn looks kind of hot with the girly nails, and Harry has to look away from them to keep his calm.

“Yeah,” Harry replies, seating himself cross-legged on the carpet, “course you can.” Safaa squeals with delight as Waliyha pulls out a drawer filled with different shades of nail polish.

“What color do you want?” Waliyha asks him. There are so many kinds, different shades of pink, of blue, of green, that Harry feels overwhelmed. But then he knows exactly what color he wants.

“Red.” He looks right at Zayn when he says it, soon enough to see Zayn shiver and take a gulp of air. He smirks to himself and spreads his fingers on the ground for the girls to paint. Even if he has to go around with red nails for god-knows how long, it is totally worth seeing Zayn affected by him. They sit in silence for a while, until the girls abruptly stop.

“We have to get the top coat,” Safaa says, standing up and pulling on her sister’s hand. They’re out of the room in a blur, racing one another to the bottom of the stairs. As soon as their footprints fade away, Zayn’s hand is on Harry’s hip, and he’s a lot closer than he was before. Harry can see conflicting emotions in his eyes as he sits, almost nose to nose with Harry. His hand on Harry’s waist rubs slow, small circles into Harry’s skin. Harry can see Zayn leaning closer to him, and this time he is ready. He turns his face to the side just as Zayn’s lips are about to meet his, making Zayn collide with his cheek. He can see the confused look that Zayn gives him as he draws backwards, still nose to nose with Harry. Harry’s breath is just like it was when he ran up and down the stairs, and he has to struggle to keep it normal.

“At least let me take you out first,” he says to Zayn, fixing him with a serious look. Zayn smiles, and it looks like he’s trying not to laugh. At this, Harry’s face falls, and he looks down only to have Zayn pull his chin up with his finger, making eye contact again.

“Okay.”

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