fOoL fOr YoU (Zarry) *discontinued*

5.2

PART TWO OF A DOUBLE UPDATE!!

atlas never really has had any good sort of luck when it comes to love. the bad sort, however, he has had loads of. he was eleven when he first fell in love. most people wouldn't consider that to be real, cause 'how would an eleven year old know what love is?' but atlas did know what it was, he had read enough books and seen enough movies for him to know. it didn't come like a bang though, nor was it this huge life changing thing. it came a bit like a warm blanket on a cold monday afternoon. or a familiar autumn breeze. it came like breathing.

but that turned out badly. the boy, malcolm, atlas fell in love with him, didn't love him back. in fact, he was a big homophobe and beat atlas up the moment atlas told him. but that didn't really scare atlas, he knew there would be people who wouldn't love him back, people who wouldn't appreciate being loved by him.

the second time atlas fell in love with someone, he was fifteen. that did come as a bang. as fireworks. as a good fucking bridge to a good song, yeah that's exactly what it felt like. that boy did love him back. brody, that was his name. he was soft and gentle and loving, and god, atlas loved him. though it ended really badly. it was just a dare. that was all it was for brody. atlas was heartbroken after that, for months, and it took him years to trust again after that.

the third time atlas fell in love, he was seventeen. and this, god, it was the love people wrote about, the one portrayed in movies, and sung about in songs. simon was perfect in every way possible, and atlas is still so grateful for that lovestory, even now. this one was fine until the very end, when simon had to move away. and neither of them thought long distance would work for them. so they broke up. and atlas was heartbroken, but not bitter or angry. it was fine.

the fourth time atlas falls in love, he's twenty three, and he doesn't expect it to happen this soon. but he knows the boy so fucking well already, and it's only been four months. and honestly it's so hard not to fall in love when the boy is so— so perfect. when he's just sitting there with his keyboard and humming a tune, wearing atlas' shirt. and when he looks up at atlas with a smile, and the sun's shining through the blinds, leaving stripes on the rug. and... fucking hell, atlas is in love again.

"hi," zayn says, smiling still. "you okay?" he moves back slightly, creating more space for atlas. but atlas doesn't move, standing still in the doorway, looking slightly panicked. "atlas?"

"no— no, i mean, yeah, ehh, that— y'know— i— you— ehm— just— i'm gonna go out and come back and try again, pretend i wasn't here, okay?" atlas rambles, pointing behind him. zayn confusedly nods. atlas walks away again, feeling his stomach turn, and his legs feel like they aren't there. god, this isn't like any of those times before. this feels worse. maybe because he knows he'll end up hurting.

"hi," zayn says when atlas walks in for the second time. "are you okay?" atlas wordlessly sits down in front of zayn, crosslegged with the world of the weight on his shoulders. "flower? do you need another do-over or would you like to talk about it this time?"

"my favourite flower are peonies, and my favourite colour is lilac," atlas says, staring down at his lap instead of looking at zayn, as he fiddles with his fingers nervously.

"i already know that. i also know that your favourite song is photograph, your favourite poem is the road not taken. you need to shower two times a day otherwise you're just uncomfortable the whole day. your clothes need to be colour organised. your favourite tattoos are the stars on your shoulder. you hate the one on your left hip and want to get it covered—"

"can i kiss you?" atlas cuts zayn off. zayn freezes for a second but nods. the anxiety atlas felt before is lessend by... a lot, really. a he doesn't remember zayn telling these things, but the boy knows them. zayn knows him. fucking hell, ben doesn't know half these things and ben has known atlas more than half their lives.

atlas' hands are cupping zayn's face, and one of zayn's is on top of atlas' hand, squeezing it slightly. atlas wants to frame the moment, keep it forever. feel the sun on his skin, zayn's warmth, the fucking keyboard between them, the papers at zayn's side, the coldness of the room— yeah. he wants to stay in this moment forever.

"hey, what's wrong?" zayn softly asks after he pulls away. he wipes atlas' cheeks, and it's only then that atlas realises he's crying.

"i feel like a fucking mess," atlas mumbles, dropping his head onto zayn's shoulder. zayn puts his hand on the back of atlas' neck, tugging at his hair softly.

"baby," zayn says, voice barely above a whisper. "what's wrong?" yeah, what actually is wrong? atlas is not quite sure. everything? nothing? he really needs to call ben, for fuck's sake.

"i don't know, i'm just overwhelmed," atlas just says. zayn hums in consideration.

"d'you need a proper cuddle?" he asks.

"yeah, i do." zayn pulls away and starts tidying up the bed, shoving the keyboard under his bed, the papers onto the nightstand, the pens in the drawers. and then he gets under the under the covers, atlas happily does the same.

from what he knows, zayn is one to curl up when he sleeps. y'know, as if he's trying to hug himself or something, it's endearing, really. but that's not what he does today. he hesitates for a moment then turns to atlas with a frown. atlas rolls his eyes fondly and scoots down a bit. he turns zayn, so that the boy is on his back again, and lays his head on zayn's shoulder, wraps his arm around zayn's waist and gets comfortable.

"you're cute," zayn says, wrapping his arms around atlas. and honestly, it makes everything so much worse and so much better. being half on top of zayn, feeling like he's being put together again.

feeling like it's not the worst thing ever falling in love so soon.