bitter || zarry stylik

twenty

here are some lovely and only slightly melancholy songs to listen to, if you'd like:

> here with me by susie suh
> breathe me by sia
> skyway avenue (acoustic) by we the kings
> if I could fly by one direction
> tangled up in blue by bob dylan
> dear john by taylor swift
> in my veins by andrew belle
> wake me up by ed sheeran
> I feel pretty/unpretty by glee
> from afar by vance joy
> these four words by the maine
> lost boy by ruth b.

enjoy, darlings xo

-

Zayn's eyes widen, and he smiles widely. "I like you too, Harry. Now, do you want a cup of tea or anything?"

Harry smiles, and nods, but a part of him wonders if Zayn likes him the way he likes Zayn. As Zayn puts the kettle on, Harry rifles through his tea drawer before finding his favourite tea. "What kind do you want, Zayn? I've got-"

"Whatever you're having will be divine, I'm sure. You've got excellent taste," Zayn bows his head a little, and Harry blushes at how courteous and perfect Zayn is.

As soon as they've poured their tea, Zayn follows Harry onto the little balcony and sets up their mugs while Harry goes into his room to get a blanket. Harry comes back, and huddles close to Zayn as he wraps the blanket around the both of them. As Harry shifts a little, he feels one of his cuts split open, and he winces, but brushes it off and covers his leg with the blanket.

"Harry, come here." Harry looks up, surprised, at Zayn, who is holding out his arms. "You look cold."

Harry isn't really all that cold, but he'll play along if it means snuggling up with Zayn. He lays down, so his head is pressed up against Zayn's chest, and closes his eyes as Zayn rubs his thigh gently. Harry really likes this. He might even love it. He loves being so close and comfortable with Zayn, that he can hear his heartbeat.

It's fast, and steady. Harry focuses just on the beat and the feeling of Zayn's hand on his leg, and nearly falls asleep because he's so relaxed. After a few minutes, Zayn shakes him gently, and leans down to whisper, "Harry, love, the sun is coming up."

Harry sits up slightly, so he's still splayed across Zayn's lap, and snuggles closer as they watch the sun rise. Harry knows he should be paying attention to the beautiful colours in the sky, and how the skyline looks amazing, but all he can think about is Zayn's breath in his ear, and his hands wrapped around Harry.

"Zayn, I have to tell you something. Just, don't be mad, okay? And if it's not the same on both ends, we'll just go back to the way everything was, yeah?"

Zayn's eyes widen a little, and he nods for Harry to go ahead. "I think I love you."

"Harry, I-"

"No, I understand if you don't love me back. I mean, who could love a depressed cutter with OCD and attachment issues because of a weird relationship with his last therapist? Certainly not you. You'd never love me. You're so perfect and amazing and fit and graceful and nice, and I'm just annoying and clingy. I-"

Zayn cuts Harry off by pressing their lips together, and hoisting Harry up to face him more. Fuck, Zayn thinks. Harry is so perfect. As Zayn pulls away, he rests his forehead on Harry's, and strokes the soft skin of his cheek. "My love, does that answer your question? Of course I love you. After all, who wouldn't?"