bitter || zarry stylik

sixteen

As Harry waits for Zayn to come back with their teas, he starts to feel a little anxious. Not really for a particular reason, just generally anxious. He thinks back to the sensory thing Dr. Parrish taught him, and thinks that he might give it a try.

He can practically hear Dr. Parrish's gravelly voice trying to sound zen, leading Harry through the exercise. Five things you can hear. Harry thinks, and closes his eyes to hear better. One: someone in the area is playing some music relatively loudly through their headphones, and Harry can just barely hear the bass and basic chord progression. Two: the sound of someone tapping their foot against the table leg. Three: someone cracking their knuckles loudly. Four: footsteps getting quieter. Five: someone humming a Cat Stevens song a few tables down.

Four things you can see. Harry opens his eyes back up for this one, and glances around the bookstore. One: the stacks and shelves of books, both old and new. Two: the little raindrops running down the windows of the shop. Three: the traffic light across the street blinking, indicating that it needs to be repaired. Four: the chair across the room that hasn't been pushed in.

That's good, Harry. Now try three things you can feel. Physical things. One: the cold draft from the door through the whole in the knee of my trousers. Two: warmth in my cheeks. Three: desire to be close to Zayn again.

Harry blushes at that, but continues. Two things you can smell. Really delve into this one, Harry. Use a lot of adjectives. One: bitter coffee grounds and the freshly baked scones they've just put out across the store in the café. Two: the pungent of smell of old books. It's one of Harry's favourite smells.

One good thing about yourself. You can do this, Harry. If you can't, I'm sure I can help you think of one. You want to know what word comes to mind for me? Sexy.

Harry's eyes jolt open, and he shudders. He swears that he could feel Dr. Parrish's hand on his thigh again, and the lilt in her voice as she tried to seduce him. Harry never liked her very much.

In order to not have done this grounding exercise for naught, Harry looks up from his lap, to find Zayn sitting patiently across from him at the little round table. "How long were you sitting there? I didn't hear you."

Zayn smiles fondly at Harry, and pushes a large mug of tea across the table toward Harry. "Only a minute or so. What were you thinking about? You looked very relaxed, up until the last second."

Harry shudders again at the thought of Dr. Parrish's slightly clammy hands on his leg, but smiles falsely up at Zayn. "Just doing a grounding e-exercise," he lies. "You know the one where you count down the senses? Yeah, I-I was doing that. And then I thought about the bacteria inside the human body, and that made me make a sour face. Thanks for the tea."

Zayn's face becomes unreadable for a millisecond, before he composes himself and smiles. Harry wonders if somehow, Zayn knew he was lying. "You're very welcome, Harry. I hope I got the proportions right. Wait, wait, don't tell me. Large peppermint tea with ginseng, one milk and one sugar. Did I get it right?"

Harry smiles, and nods, but can't seem to push Dr. Parrish fully out his mind. Fuck, he thinks, I thought I was past this.