Once in a lifetime

Chapter 4 Common

Harry meditated on the response for few seconds. An artist. There was a lot to dissect on Zayn's words. He could tell immediately Zayn was a very humble person, he wasn't looking to be famous, or to have a well-known name, he was just doing what he loved, he didn't appreciate being put into a category. Fuck, that type of thinking, those minds, that vision is something Harry had always felt drawn to. Another feature of Zayn's to add to the list.

"I hear you. I'm not fan of labels, y'know? I think we are not meant to leave inside a box, whichever this one would be. If you box yourself up or allow people to do it, then you will have to fight your way out. Why going there in the first place?

"Yeah, exactlyh my point" Zayn marvelled. Not many people shared his idea on how or what to be called. This was one of many other reasons for always ending up fighting his ex. Always a fucking label.

Coffee had been at the table for a while, long forgotten. They were both too invested in the conversation to stop to sip, so the poor things were getting colder by minute.

"The thing is, Zayn, in this world, people need a label to call you by. They need to be able to determine themselves whether you are successful or not, to rate your life performance, else you are not relevant to them if they can't pinpoint where you should be categorized."

"See, for me is as simple as, Fuck labels. To be successful, truly successful in life, you need to redefine what success means to you. If you love what you do, if makes you happy doing it, if you feel complete by just putting tiny pieces of you out to the world, who the fuck is anyone to tell you are not successful?"

"Mhm, agree. That's a rather nice way to see life. Define what success means to you and live by it."

"S' correct, Harry. If you are happy flipping burgers, do it. If having a thousand people chanting your name in an arena makes you happy, work for it. S' an easy belief to go by, innit?

"Quite unpopular, I'd say. Not that I disagree, I agree wholeheartedly. S' a very romantic and straight forward notion. Be who you want to be, not who other people think you are meant to be."

Zayn just nodded, in accordance. He was getting more and more into Harry. He didn't have many people around to share his thoughts with, and Liam was sometimes skimming annoying, trying to force him to be someone he didn't want to, always pushing with something. But Harry, is newfound mate was getting him with just few minutes of talking. No, that was bullshit, not Harry getting him, but Harry being just a mate. You don't to the things Zayn wanted to do to Harry to a mate, he would most certainly never try to get inside Liam, literal and figuratively speaking. He wanted Harry. His mind wanted Harry. His body wanted Harry. His quirkiness wanted Harry. How exactly? He just had seen him twice.

"Do I get to ask now?" Zayn replied, wanting to know about him already.

"What do you want to know?" Harry replied with a full dimple display smile.

Are you into guys?

"What's your line of business?" Zayn ask, withholding the previous thought.

"Oh, I'm just a book editor. I sort of have my own small editorial too."

"That's wicked, innit? You own a business? Cool, cool. So, you write too? Or just read books and decide which ones to print?"

"M' a very, very amateur writer, honestly. I sometimes fool around with paper and pen, mostly as outlet for some things that cross my mind, y'know? Nothing major so I mainly just choose the books."

"Mhm, giving physical form to your thoughts is a great way to let go of things you didn't even know needed to be said. That's amazing, Harry. I hope you keep that up, yeah?"

"Well, thank you, Zayn. My thing might not be as creative or artistic as yours, you see, but I love it."

"That, Harry, is the only thing we have discussed that I fully disagree. See, art is not just putting colour into a page or canvas, the beauty of art is that is so vast and benevolent to us, that in my opinion there is an art genius inside of us all."

"How so?"

"Easy. You read books and sometimes write, yeah? How's that not artistically valid? D'you know how exceptional it is to be able to put your mind into words? People who dance, can you imagine the struggle they go through, both mental and physically to express themselves with their own bodies? People who sing too, what it takes to be able to perform in front of a crowd? See where m' coming from? Art is everywhere and in everything, you just need the right state of mind to see it and live it."

"Aren't you unique, Zayn?" Harry whispered, mesmerized by the way Zayn's mind worked. "Fuck me, you are totally right. I'd never seen it that way, y'know? I guess I, uh, just saw myself as a kind of boring bookworm who happen to be able to make a living from his nerdy passion."

"Bad, bad Harry." Zayn said giggling, trying to lighten the moment. "You are far from boring, in my opinion. You are the most interesting person I've come across for a while" he added speaking softly yet loud enough for Harry to hear, also maintaining direct eye contact through the whole interaction, making him blush.

"Am I now? How is it that an artist like you finds a commoner like me interesting?" he wanted to know. He needed to know if he was seeing things on Zayn's posture if he was imagining the flirt mood that had suddenly taken over the conversation. He truly needed to know.

"There is nothing common about you, Harry Styles. Nothing at all"

At that, Harry's whole body shuddered. That had to be flirting. It just had to. The soft voice, the tenderness on it, the light on Zayn's eyes... Shit. They were straight hitting on each other now.

"I could say the same exact thing about you, Zayn Malik. There is nothing common about you."

"Then I guess we can say there ain't nothing common about us, innit? For a starter, I'd say you'd be a nice subject for a painting, if I might."

"You think so?" Harry asked shyly. Him? On painting? On a Zayn painting nothing less? What the actual fuck was happening just now?

"I know so, Harry. There is so much of you that I can see right now. We painters are half witches, yeah?"

"That I've heard before. Can you see auras too?" Harry half teased half worried in case it was true.

Zayn snickered before clarifying the idea "Noh, noh. It'd be wicked if I could, yeah? I just meant, people say we see the world differently, we are more sensitive and whatnot. There is so much more of you than what meets the eye."

"That is the nicest thing someone has ever said to me, I appreciate it. Well, I'm up for it you just tell me when and where and I'll be there."

"Good, good. Yeah, for sure I'll arrange it."

"You don't have my number yet, though." Harry said with an intended smile.

"Well, I mean to fix it right at this minute. Harry Styles, can I get your number?"

"Of course. How about you ring me so I can save yours now too?"

"Let's do it, yeah." And he did exactly it. Well, that was smooth, Zayn thought. But, sure as hell he wasn't walking away without getting Harry's number at least. He could've swear they started just plainly flirting at some point and he really meant he would love a painting of Harry. He ought to be painted all the time.

Zayn's phone rang after they saved each other's number and Harry looked at him while he stared at his phone.

"Do you need to get that? Don't worry about me, I might leave for a minute if you want me." He said, when saw Zayn was reluctant to answer the call.

"Not at all. Is just Li bugging me. I'm in the loose, shall we say?" He snickered again; the way Harry was starting to be fixated about.

"What did you escape from? And why?" Harry laughed.

"He's been on my ass about few shows I need to double check, but I am feeling none of the paintings."

"Yours? To display on your gallery?"

"No, they're from a couple of local artists we've displayed before. This time, I'm just not into it, yeah?"

"That sucks. Why don't you just tell him? Maybe you can search for another artist you like better."