Drawn Out Dreams. [A Zarry Fanfiction.]

Chapter Thirty One

Harry Styles stood leaning against the doorframe of the art closet with a dorky smile on his face. His dimples were popped out, either side of the lopsided smile that was set in an upward curved line, as his emeralds watched his raven-haired boyfriend walk off into the sixth form and to his next lesson, his sketchbooks held into his arms tightly. He couldn’t help but give a little chuckle as he watched the boy disappear, before he scooped up his school bag and threw it over his shoulder, although his green eyes glanced down and saw the half folded letter that Zayn had written for him on the floor.

Almost immediately he bent down and scooped it up, not wanting to leave it laying around in case someone were to find it. He couldn’t help but unfold it once again and look over the beautifully scripted words, when he was reminded of something. He looked over how Liam’s name was written, and was suddenly reminded that his so-called best friend had had some sort of conversation with Zayn, convincing the boy that Harry wanted nothing to do with him. It was all false accusations, but it drove Harry made with anger. His fists clenched around the letter, the sound of the paper crumpling and creasing the only noise loud enough to hear by the small closet.

His feet set off before he could command them too. He couldn’t believe that his best friend would be so jaded and bitchy, Liam Payne was practically a teenage girl, and Harry wondered how an earth the boy must live with himself on days like this. Had Liam only ever spoken to Zayn once? His mind started to wonder how many times the two brown eyed boys had talked, and Harry grit his teeth as he hoped that it would have only been the once. And it will be the once, he told himself firmly, as he swore he would never let Liam Payne near his boyfriend ever again.

A small smile tried to tug at his lips as the thought of Zayn being his boyfriend echoed around in his head, but the curly haired lad was so mad that he captured the feeling of saying that in his head and locked it away deep in his mind, promising himself to return to it at a later time and fully rejoice over that beautiful word. A beautiful word, for a beautiful boy…his beautiful boy to be exact. Again, he locked it away as he started to storm round the sixth form, searching for Liam. Emerald eyes scanned every nook and cranny, before arriving in the common room, where he finally spotted the boy sat on his own on the sofas, tapping away on his phone.

Harry quickly stormed over and practically dived onto the opposite sofa seat, scowling at Liam as he looked up to see who was now sat opposite him.

“You look pissed,” Liam started but Harry quickly cut him off at the tongue.

“Don’t you dare!” Harry warned, his voice low and cold as he stared down into his best friend’s dark brown eyes, which were now sparkling with confusion. Liam’s brow was furrowed slightly, his lips twitched as if he tried to talk again but then stopped, as if knowing that Harry would cut him off anyway.

“What in God’s name gives you the right to go round telling Zayn that I’m only friends with him because I want to take his fucking virginity?!” Harry snapped, trying his hardest to keep his voice as low as possible, since he didn’t want the rest of the students in the common room to hear the commotion. Harry wasn’t normally one for confrontation, but when Zayn Malik was brought into it he’d go in with guns blazing if he had too.

Harry watched as Liam’s face slowly formed into a sly smile.

“Harry, you’ve got this wrong,” Liam started, but his words were once again cut off by the sound of Harry slamming the letter onto the small table that was placed inbetween the sofas. Liam looked down at the piece of paper and tentatively reached out for it, and when Harry slowly slipped his hand away Liam took that as the curly haired lad giving him permission to read it.

Liam took the letter into his hands and read over it, his dark brown eyes reading across the words that Malik had written. He wasn’t surprised that the boy had beautiful hand writing, most art students tended to have handwriting that looked like art itself. He read over the words, and even had to hide a smirk, as he sunk the top row of his teeth into his bottom lip.