Missing Pages (Book 2)

You're My Flashlight

Zayn's POV~
I lean against the doorway and watch as Harry types away on his laptop, working on his school work. He's been doing much better since yesterday. I've gotten him to eat a bagel, and some oatmeal with cut up strawberries.

Liam has been taking care of Niall, he hit the ground pretty hard apparently. He's okay though, I think he's playing it up a bit to get sympathy out of Liam. Not that there was anything necessarily wrong with that. Anyway, Louis has been improving as well, he still has a long way to go, but it's a start.

We all decided to have a movie night together to celebrate making it through the year. It may not seem like much, but we have all overcome so much, and really grown as individuals. I know we have a long way to go still; we have questions that needs answers. But for now, we all decided it's important to take notice of how far we've come, instead of how far we have to go.

"Zayn?" Harry's voice breaks me out of my thoughts, and I look back at him. "Yeah?" I ask. "What's wrong?" He asks.

"Nothing. Just thinking is all." I answer, making my way to the bed, and sitting down next to him.

"About what?" He asks curiously.

"You. How beautiful you are. And how lucky I am to be with you." I said, taking his hand and placing a gentle kiss against his knuckle. He flushes, his cheeks turning a dark shade of red.

"You sap." He teases, I smile, kissing his cheek.

"Only for you." I promise.

"I love you, Zayn." He said.

"I love you, Harry." I reply.

"I know." He smiles.

"I know." I repeat back to him.

"There I was, way off my ambitions, getting deeper in love every minute." He spoke softly.

"F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby." I respond, before continuing, "They slipped briskly into an intimacy from which they never recovered."

"This Side Of Paradise, F. Scott Fitzgerald." He said. "I didn't know you read that book."

"I've read many." I respond plainly.

"Your dorm room."

"What?" I ask confused.

"Your dorm room had an entire library of books, you read each one?"

"Yes. Many times." I said simply.

"How many books have you read?" He asks curiously.

"I don't know. I don't keep track. How many have you read?"

"Three hundred and forty-two."

"You actually count?" I ask in disbelief.

"Yes. I write each book down in a journal once I finish reading it." He explains, & I laugh. Of course he would keep track.

"You are a wonderful creation. You know more than you think you know, just as you know less than you want to know." I quote Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Grey.

"Oscar Wilde." He responds, moving his laptop off the bed, & moves into my lap.

"Indeed."

"I could listen to you quote books all day." He sighs, nuzzling his face into my neck.

"She was illusive. She was today. She was tomorrow. She was the faintest scent of a cactus flower, the fitting shadow of an elf owl. We did not know what to make of her. In our minds we tried to pin her to a cork board like a butterfly, but the pin merely went through and away she flew." I quoted Jerry Spinelli, Stargirl.