For Lovers Only - [A Zarry Stylik]©️

XXXXII- WITH EXTRA SPICE

L,

Harry and Zayn together.

Living their best life and their romance; hopping and skipping all over Europe.

Kissing.

Touching.

Making love.

I shut my eyes, grinding my teeth and pushing the imagery out of my head. The nerve on that fucking boy answering the phone and talking as if he owned my husband.

Four days and our conversation still rang in my head, word for word and tone for tone. I had to give it to him, though; he was courageous. How arrogant he sounded. How sure of himself. A true winner. Hadn't heard him like that in a while and, no matter how much it annoyed me, I had to give it to him. I'd probably do the same.

Fuck, maybe I had in the past.

I always knew that Harry had underlying darkness within him. Deep down, we were both the same. We were more alike than we'd like to admit. I also suspected that Harry had always had some kind of attraction towards Zayn before any of this ever crossed my mind. I knew he was this big lovable lad, who nurtured feelings for every single person he met - annoying really! - but when it came to Zayn it was different. It wasn't loud or over the top, it was silent.

I had seen that first glimpse of his 'victory smirk' when we were sitting for lunch at the cafeteria: We used to have these big round tables big enough for six, aside from the large rectangular ones you'd find in any school. We were getting ready for lunch, I had my tray and sat down. Louis is on my left. Niall following. Then, Harry came and sat down. There was a seat next to me, his crush, but also an empty seat next to Harry.

He looked so beautiful that day and my heart had been calling for him, despite turning him down the first time. I had shot down his advances because I was still figuring myself out. I didn't want to string him along, giving him false hope. But, now that he wasn't as close to me and as devoted, I wanted him more than ever. I found myself wanting him to love me fully.

"Zayn, sit here," I called as he approached the table.

Zayn looked at me, then at Harry - who hadn't said a word! - and sat down next to him. Across from me. Someone else sat beside me, but I wasn't focused on them. They sat close to one another: elbows touching, knees probably too. They shared a secretive smile, with Zayn giving him a funny wiggle of the eyebrows. Then, he proceeded to eat that dreadful school meal we were all forced to gobble down.

The final point wasn't that, though. Harry caught me staring. He smirked at me, grabbing his cup of water to hide his victorious grin. He had this hint of triumph in his eyes. He had won over me.

It had happened time and time again, their connection and demonstration of affection right in front of my face. Harry would be eating something, he'd walk straight up to Zayn and share whatever he was eating; Zayn would gladly accept it, even if he didn't like it. If I did it, he'd turn me down. Same with drinks like water or coffee - the first time I saw Zayn drink black coffee was with Harry; He had told me hated it since the day I met him. He couldn't stand the smell of it and the taste.

However, Harry gave him some and now he was addicted to caffeine. With every little gesture, I sensed Harry grow bolder and bolder. With every step he gave towards Zayn, I'd catch that little victory smirk and celebratory energy of his.

"Never have I ever..." Louis sang out of the blue.

He was older than us, and somehow, he had gotten a hold of a few beers of this terrible brand. We were hanging about his house, on a Saturday afternoon enjoying the first days of sun in the garden, alongside other friends of ours who we grew distant over the years and whose names were never important enough for me to carry into adulthood.