Should We Just Keep Driving? [Zarry Stylik AU]©️

Chapter 18

Harry sat atop the counter watching the most curious thing. His boss - now his lover - barefoot, using some old jeans and a loose shirt and cooking him a meal.

The clock struck 09h00 pm and Harry could sit there and watch him forever. Zayn was the most beautiful creature, cooking him his famous - and judging by the smell, delicious - meatballs with spaghetti or spag balls.

Harry loved this feeling of being cosy and adored by someone. It made him feel special. He had never felt such adoration and admiration for another. Harry had finally found the feeling he had been looking for all this time.

The pasta was boiling, Zayn was working on the sauce, while the meatballs rested on the side still steaming.

Harry jumped from the counter, walking up behind him and peeking over his shoulder. The house was quiet, and it was peaceful - the most peaceful it had ever been. Harry wrapped his arms around Zayn's waist, kissing his neck slightly.

"Smells delicious, honey."

"Thank you," Zayn responded, putting a bit more parsley on the sauce and stirring it. It was deep red, smelled wonderful and was rich in spices. "How are you with a little bit of spice?"

"Just a bit," Harry responded with the chin on his shoulder. He watched Zayn put a pinch of cayenne pepper on the sauce, just to give that tingle on the back of the throat. He was so happy seeing Zayn cook for him, that he felt terrible about breaking the bad news, as he saw him reach for the meatballs. "Honey?"

"Hm?"

"I have bad news."

"Hm?" Zayn reached for the plate with one hand and began shovelling the meatballs into the pan with a wooden spoon.

"I don't eat...meat."

The young CEO froze halfway through the gesture. Then, turned to Harry with a frown.

"You're joking meh." He responded with an emphasis on the 'eh' at the end of a sentence. Harry winced, letting go of him. "Harreh!"

"I'm sorry, honey. I'm sorry." Harry apologised with praying hands and a smile. "I just...You seemed so into it."

"Well, of course, I'm into it. I love doin' this dish...I spent years perfectin' it." He responded. Harry snorted seeing his pronunciation becoming more prevalent. It was sweet. "Now, what?"

"Well, I can eat the pasta-"

"No, no, no..." Zayn argued, turning to the stove.

He continued the process of dunking the meatballs. Harry let out a melodic chuckle, coming back to his body and embracing it.

"Honey..."

"Don't even bother. You're going to eat'em..." Zayn repeated. "You're eatin' me balls, Harreh."

Harry leaned into his ear and whispered, "Haven't I already?"

The young CEO nudged him slightly on the stomach and Harry fumbled back. The driver grabbed an apple, then jumped on the counter close to the stove watching Zayn cook. He looked beautiful from above.

"So, what are you going to do about your sister?" Harry asked, biting the apple.

Zayn let out an exhausted sigh, turning the meatballs into the pan.

"Nothing,"

"Nothing?"

"She's my sister, Harry, what do you expect me to do?"

"I don't know. Maybe go to the police?"

"I can't do that to my sister," Zayn responded, tapping the wooden spoon to the side, and then putting a lid on the pan. "She's the oldest and I don't hate her for it. I understand her reasoning."