Irresistible [A Zarry Fanfiction].

Chapter Thirty Seven

Harry Styles listened as his front door slammed, and he almost swore that the thin walls of his house shook slightly. He would have cared more, but he couldn’t. He felt so hurt. He stood in his kitchen, leant against the counter, looking down at his feet miserably. He and Zayn weren’t even going out officially yet, and they were already hitting speed bumps. Everything that happened with Zayn was an emotional rollercoaster. It just went from perfect, to shit, then back to perfect, and then shit again. Harry let out a sigh, and looked up, secretly hoping that Zayn would walk back into his small kitchen and apologise, but that wasn’t the case, he thought, looking around the empty, and now cold kitchen.

“Sometimes I just don’t know why I bother, Dusty.” Harry sighed, trying to push all thoughts of the chocolate eyed, olive skinned male that tended to blitz through his emotions like a tornado. He picked up the dishes and put them into the sink, distracting himself once again by cleaning. That had always been a habit of his. His Mum always knew when something would be wrong, because the house would be clean for once. His faithful kitten rubbed against his leg, as if knowing what was wrong.

“I just try so hard with him, and right when I think everything’s going to be simply fantastic, it fucks up. I don’t get it!” Harry went on, talking to himself. He started to wash the plates, before he laughed to himself.

“He’s my fucking student, he’s supposed to do what I say!” Harry blurted out, looking down at Dusty, even though she just looked up at him with blank eyes. Harry sighed and rolled his eyes, thinking how ridiculous that last comment was, before finishing the washing up.

That was another hitch to it all; Harry had to keep reminding himself that he was Zayn’s English teacher. How did other teacher student relationships work? Oh yeah, they didn’t. Or they did, but ended up in prison. It was so hard, especially when Zayn smiled. Harry felt like he barely ever saw Zayn smile, so when the younger boy did, it was like watching a tiny miracle, all Harry wanted to do was to save it and lock it away and keep it as his. It was even better when Harry was the one to cause the smile.

“Harry, you’re supposed to be mad at him!” Harry suddenly scolded himself, when he felt that his mind was running away with thoughts of the beautiful Zayn. He let out a sigh and gave up on washing up, and filled up Dusty’s food bowl instead, before going off in search of his mobile phone. He needed to talk to someone with sense. Someone who was right, and he knew just who that was.

When Harry finally found his phone in the living room, he plonked down on the sofa, bringing his knees to his chest and a blanket around him as he dialled his best friend, Louis Tomlinson. The phone dialled for a moment, before Louis’ voice answered the phone.

“You’ve reached Louis Tomlinson, who is currently drowning in a pile of year eight marking, how can I help you?” Louis asked, which immediately made Harry smile.

“This is Harry Styles, drowning in a pool of emotion, how can you help me?” Harry sighed down the phone, and he could almost hear Louis stop what he was doing.

“Alright, tell me everything. I knew you wouldn’t wait until Zayn was eighteen.” Louis sighed, but Harry was glad he still wanted to listen.

“Zayn popped around by surprise, I couldn’t help this. But it’s just…it’s stupid.” Harry started, before he heard Louis sigh down the phone.

“No Hazz, this year eight lad that spelt drama as damar is stupid. What’s happened?” Louis replied lightly, and Harry couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Well, I’m worried about Zayn. Suspicions deep inside have just been building up, and I’m really unsure about what I should do.” Harry explained, feeling like an idiot. He felt like an idiot because he was talking about him and Zayn like they had been with each other for years. They’d only known each other for over a month.