Glitter & Crimson [COMPLETED]

1

The night had been like so many before it—the kind that only seemed possible in the quiet hours when the world felt softer and the people in it seemed closer. In a bar in the heart of Paris, the clock nearing three in the morning, the boys had celebrated their success, their lives, and their bond. Yet, what began as an innocent night of celebration had quickly drifted into something more raw and vulnerable, something neither Zayn nor Louis could have anticipated.

"Come on, Lou, let's get you some fresh air," Zayn murmured gently, his hand rubbing soothing circles on Louis's back as they sat on the grimy bathroom floor. Louis, half-slumped over the toilet, groaned faintly, the night's drinks catching up to him all at once.

After some coaxing, Zayn finally managed to get Louis on his feet, steadying him with an arm around his shoulder. The two weaved through the dimly lit bar, slipping out unnoticed into the chilly Parisian night as the muffled sounds of laughter and clinking glasses faded behind them.

The crisp night air hit them with sharp clarity, a refreshing contrast to the staleness of the bar. Together, they wandered down the cobbled streets, Zayn's arm still firmly around Louis's waist. They moved in comfortable silence, wrapped in the magic of the city, where even the buildings seemed to shimmer beneath the glow of streetlights.

As they passed an elderly woman bundled up in a thick scarf, she stopped and smiled at them with a twinkle in her eye. "Oh, aren't you two an adorable couple," she said in French, laughing softly before shuffling away.

Zayn felt his cheeks flush slightly, casting a shy glance at Louis, who chuckled and squeezed his arm. "We should get married," Louis slurred, looking up at Zayn with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Zayn laughed, shaking his head. "Not the worst idea you've ever had," he replied, his voice soft, unsure if he meant it as a joke or a half-truth. The streetlights flickered in Louis's eyes, which had softened in a way Zayn rarely saw.

They continued to drift through the streets, exchanging whispers and laughter until they found themselves back at the bar, their energy momentarily rekindled. Zayn ordered another round, and as they toasted, Louis lifted his glass, grinning.

"To the future Mr. and Mr. Malik-Tomlinson," Louis announced with a laugh, his blue eyes sparkling with playful mischief.

Zayn raised his glass, a lazy smile spreading across his face. "To the best wedding night Paris has ever seen."

Fueled by a strange combination of alcohol and adrenaline, Louis tugged Zayn out of the bar, and back into the night. They stumbled through the streets, arms wrapped around each other as they whispered promises and silly vows, both riding the high of the moment. Each step brought them closer to something they couldn't quite define, a growing warmth that had little to do with the alcohol.

"Let's do it," Louis mumbled, eyes twinkling with mischief as they stopped in front of a small, barely lit chapel. He glanced at Zayn, his expression torn between genuine affection and pure recklessness.

And, without a word, Zayn nodded, feeling an inexplicable pull that silenced any hesitation. They stepped inside, barely aware of what they were doing, more focused on the way their laughter echoed in the quiet space and the thrill of the absurdity.

It was a blur after that. They found someone—someone who probably shouldn't have agreed to it, but who seemed just as amused by the two young men, stumbling over each other's names as they giggled their way through hastily made vows.

By the time they staggered out of the chapel, the streets of Paris had begun to brighten with the early hints of dawn. Their laughter had faded into a comfortable silence, a shared moment neither could put into words. For now, all that mattered was the feeling—warm and light, like they were floating.

---

When Zayn woke, a piercing sunlight struck him square in the face. He groaned, turning over and trying to escape the blinding intrusion, but the ache in his head was relentless. He cracked his eyes open, squinting against the unfamiliar room—the cluttered clothes, the empty bottles littering the nightstand.

A flicker of confusion hit him as he took in his surroundings. The night was a blur of memories that felt more like a dream than reality. But the faint murmur of water from the bathroom anchored him, and his heartbeat picked up. There was someone here with him, and judging by the state of the room, it wasn't just anyone.

A sudden glint caught his attention—a slim, metallic band encircling his wedding finger. Zayn's breath hitched as he stared at the ring, his mind racing to connect the dots, trying to recall anything that could explain this. Before he could sink any deeper into panic, the bathroom door opened, and Louis appeared, fresh from the shower, a towel wrapped loosely around his hips.

Louis offered a lazy smirk. "Morning, sunshine."

Zayn swallowed, staring at the ring on Louis's hand that matched his own. "Lou... do you remember... anything?"

Louis glanced at his hand, his eyes widening slightly as he took in the ring. A mix of shock and amusement flickered across his face before he chuckled, shaking his head. "So, it wasn't just a wild dream," he murmured, looking back at Zayn with a smirk that held both playfulness and something deeper, an unspoken emotion lingering just beneath the surface.

Louis laughed, lying back on the bed beside Zayn. "Hey, you should be glad you married an attractive man," he teased, though there was an edge to his tone like he wasn't entirely joking.

Zayn huffed a laugh, trying to ignore the way his heart stuttered. "Can't argue with that," he replied softly, letting himself relax as Louis leaned against him, their shoulders touching as they shared a moment of silence, each lost in thought.

They sat there in the gentle morning light, the reality of their situation beginning to settle between them. There was something surreal in knowing that, even if it was by accident, they had somehow ended up here—together, with a ring binding them in a way that went beyond friendship, beyond even the wildest nights they'd shared before.

Finally, Louis broke the silence, his voice barely a whisper. "So... what now?"

Zayn glanced at him, their eyes meeting in a way that felt strangely profound. He didn't have an answer, not yet. But for the first time in a long time, he wasn't afraid to find out. With Louis by his side, maybe it was possible to navigate whatever lay ahead, even if it meant they had to redefine everything they thought they knew.

Before Zayn could respond they were interrupted by an intense knocking on the hotel door. Louis groans and stands up, the towel he was sporting slowly slipping down his waist

"Nice ass babe" Zayn called out teasingly causing Louis to roll his eyes in response