Earned It [zarry]

Chapter 29[end]

Zayn looks up at Harry with wide eyes and then frowns. "Way to kill the mood you weirdo." He says scrunching his nose up. "We're you thinking about my parents the whole time? That's just fucked up Harry."

Harry rolls his eyes at that and he gives zayn a look. "I wasn't thinking about your parents the whole time. I was thinking about us and how...how I like us, and how I want more....one day. And how can I want more if I haven't even met your father yet."

Zayn pursed his lips a bit before he's sighing deeply. "It was still a mood killer. I'm pretty sure it was the worst mood killer ever." He says and puts on the rest of his clothes before straightening out Harry's desk. "You owe me dinner now."

"And a movie." Harry offers with a soft smile.

+

Harry smiles as he nuzzles his nose to Zayn's neck. The movie had just ended, and they were sitting on a park bench together. Zayn basically on Harry's lap, and Harry with his arms around his waist.

"I'll call my mom tomorrow about the whole meeting everyone thing. I'm sure they'd love to finally meet you. It'll probably be a while though. I want my dad back up to par when you meet him. I want him at his best so he can properly threaten to kick your ass if you hurt me again." Zayn says looking at Harry from under his eyelashes. His hand reaching up and running his thumb over Harry's cheek.

"I'd never hurt you again...I promise," Harry says softly, his lips bruising over Zayn's skin lightly.

"Good."

Thy sat there for a bit longer, and it was peaceful. Barely anyone walked by them, and Zayn felt as if they were in a movie or something equally as beautiful. More minutes went by, before something cold landed on Zayn's cheek. He jump a bit and looks up to the sky. He holds his hand out, and stares in awe as a little snowflake falls onto his palm and then melts. "Snow."

"Beautiful."

"It really is."

"It's alright, I was talking about you though," Harry says kissing Zayn's cheek.

Zayn blushes a bit and looks around as  more snow started to fall around them. Just then the street lights flickered on, and Zayn cuddles closer to Harry's chest. "Sleigh bells ring," Zayn said, before thumping Harry on the arm. "Are you listening?"

Harry tilted his head. "In the lane."

Snow was starting to glisten all around them, turning the park into a pristine cold colour painting. Snow was probably the best thing Zayn has ever seen. He loves how pretty it was, and how fluffy and how whenever it snowed it made him sleep longer. "A business man who moves to the sound of jingle bells," Zayn muttered to himself, he turns his face to look at his boyfriend who was already getting read cheeks, nose, and ears. "You're so cute."

Standing up zayn stretches our his back as he shivers and the coldness of the fall in snow, and that lack of Harry's body warmth again his own. It's getting slightly heavier, and Zayn sighs content. "Snow!" He laughs, tilting his head up towards the snow.

Even though it's freezing, even though Harry can already feel his teeth chattering, he can't deny how incredibly picturesque the moment is.

Zayn opens his mouth, sticking out his tongue as he attempts to catch a snowflake on his tongue.

"I haven't caught snowflakes on my tongue since I was little," Harry admits, as he stands from the branch as well, tightening his coat around his waist, and Zayn lifts his head to look at him.

"Nothing stopping you now," he points out, and holds out his hand to Harry, wiggling his fingers impatiently. Harry reaches out to grab it, squeaking at how cold Zayn's hand already is, but joined together they already feel warmer.

"Is this sanitary?" Harry asks, as Zayn opens his mouth again.

He stares at Harry, just like that-tongue hanging out, eyes wide and bright with childish delight-and shrugs. Harry laughs, because of course, but decides... Why not? He closes his eyes, and opens his mouth.

The first flake is a surprise-not landing cold and wet on his cheeks or forehead, but on his tongue, turning so instantly to water that it's gone before it really happened. He blinks, in surprise, and then there's the second and the third. Harry finds himself moving, trying to catch the flurries as they come down, spinning in circles with Zayn connected to him by their fingertips.

Harry feels lost in the way the white drifts down lazily, invisible until it's almost too late, streaking through the light of a street lamp before he catches them in his mouth.

"You're adorable."

He looks up, and Zayn is right there, standing close by and stroking a cold thumb over Harry's own very cold hand. His eyes are still bright, but the affection in his gaze seems to overshadow it. There's snow caught all in his hair, clinging to the thin fabric of his long-sleeved shirt and kissing against his cheeks melting away.

"I'm freezing," Harry says with a laugh, even as he thinks, you're beautiful.

"I stopped being able to feel my fingers a few minutes ago."

Harry scoffs disapprovingly at that, tugging Zayn close to his chest again. He walks them in the direction of the car then.

"Why didn't you say anything?" It's harder to open the door with shaking fingers, but he manages, and, even in the Audi, he already feels warmer. Harry pulls Zayn close to him, pressing his hands to his arms, and running them up and down, wanting to work warmth back into him.

"Because you just... Looked so carefree." Zayn brushes fingers against Harry's cheek, and he jerks back at the sudden frozen touch. "Sorry," Zayn manages on a laugh, and Harry playfully shoos his hand away, as he goes to his side to starts the car up.

"Come on, we need to get you warmed up before you lose your fingers." He firms up the heat and breaths on his own hands before closing his hands around Zayn's.

"Warmed up, hmm?" Zayn grins mischievously, and Harry rolls his eyes, but he's smiling, too.

"Well, I was thinking hot chocolate, but..." Harry trails off. He crowds close to Zayn, and Zayn laughs. But then he slides his hands up to cup Zayn's face, and, even though he jolts at the cold, he let's Harry cradle his jaw.

"You're beautiful," Harry whispers, breaking the playful air of the moment, and the breath slips slow from Zayn's lips. It's something Harry tells Zayn whenever he can, and something Zayn always, always thinks, but never says as much as he should.

Zayn doesn't kiss him right then, but leans forward, pressing his forehead to Harry's, and Harry can feel the heat from the vents quickly warming them making the moment even better.