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

Chapter Twelve | Don't Let Go, Apollo

"Do you trust me?"

Zayn's eyes suspiciously flit down to Harry's outstretched hand as he stands there in front of him, floating. He raises an eyebrow.

"Are you referencing Aladdin right now?" He asks. "Because if so, I think you've got the roles mixed up a bit here."

Harry quietly chuckles at his words. "Okay, fair enough," he allows, "but that's besides the point, Zayn. I won't let anything happen to you, I swear."

He folds his arms across his chest then, feeling as hesitant as ever as he looks out at the water before him, looks out at the bright red rental canoe on top of it that Apollo's currently standing in, the one that's apparently an integral part of Lana's activity for the day, much to his dismay.

"Louis pushed me out of one of these before," he reveals, and immediately, out of the corner of his eye, he sees his best friend throw his arms up in a huff.

"Christ, how many times do I have to say that I'm sorry for that? I was the one who saved you, wasn't I?"

Liam scoffs from his place beside him. "He wouldn't have needed saving if you didn't put his life in danger in the first place."

"Okay, no one asked you, Payno."

Zayn decides to bring Harry's attention back to him before either of them can get sucked into that dispute. "He forgot that I couldn't swim," he explains lowly to him. "Everything was fine in the end. I just– I don't like canoes... or water... so don't push me."

Harry's expression turns solemn. "I wouldn't. I won't," he earnestly promises.

And for some reason, Zayn promptly takes that at face value, so he sighs in resignation, dropping his arms to his sides. "It's way too early for this."

The golden boy lets out another small laugh. "It's always way too early for you," he points out as he readily takes Zayn's hand in his to help him into the canoe, "no matter what you're doing."

"... I will neither confirm nor deny that statement."

He doesn't let go until Zayn's carefully settled into his place at the front, keeps a hand on his waist to steady him, but once he's seated, Zayn finds his vision instantly clouded by something blindingly orange.

He frowns, narrowing his eyes at it before looking back up at Harry. "What are you doing?"

The item dances in front of his face. "It's a life jacket," he's plainly told. "Put it on."

He slowly pushes it away. "I know what it is, and cheers, but I'm fine, mate. I don't need that unless you were lying and are planning to tip the boat over too?"

Harry's brow creases. "I would never put you in danger like that, Zayn. I just think that I'd feel much better if you were wearing it. You know, just in case?" He brings the life jacket back towards him, only for Zayn to shove it away again.

"And I think that I'd feel much better if you weren't treating me like a child, Harry. I said I'm good."

"What?" He scrunches his face up, perplexed. "That's not what I'm trying to do at all, but you can't swim, Zayn, and you're the one who said that you'd rather not being this, aren't you?"

"Yeah, because I don't like water and I've had a few bad experiences," he tells him, "but we're not sailing across the ocean, Styles. Just rowing down the lake for a few minutes. I think I can handle it."

"I never said that you couldn't. You don't have to make everything a fight."

He sounds exasperated by this point, and that alone is slightly irritating. "I'm not making anything a fight. You're the one making a big deal out of nothing."