Forget Me Not (Zayn/Harry; Mpreg AU)

24 - Life is unfair, little boy

"Do you really have to go, Zayn?" Harry asks as he follows his fiancé around their flat, an expression of unease etched deeply on his face and a feeling of anxiety burrowing itself in the cavities of his chest as he watches Zayn rummage through their closet for his dress pants. As far as Harry knows, his fiancé is getting ready for an important meeting with an upcoming singer, who has requested for some of Zayn's songs to be featured on her debut album. Harry thinks her name is Rita Ora. "Because I think you shouldn't."

The older lad makes a triumphant noise when he is finally able to pull out his favorite pair of designer dress pants from when he is still the CEO of Malik Enterprises. He grips the soft cloth in between his fingers, looking down at it with nostalgic fondness, remembering the days where he used to wear this with his suit for meetings, conventions and business trips. He admits that sometimes he misses the power and money from way back, but he knows that if given the chance to choose between his wealth and Harry all over again, he'd choose the beautiful lad repeatedly. He is far too happy living a simple life with Harry than immerse himself in the extravagance, the luxury, which automatically comes from being born as a Malik.

"Zayn, love?"

The soft, hesitant voice of Harry pulls Zayn out of his wandering thoughts. He shakes his head and spins around to face the green-eyed lad. "You know I have to take this job, Haz," he reminds the pouting young man. Zayn walks over to him and presses his forehead against Harry's, smiling kindly. "The pay is too good to pass up. I was thinking that we can add it to our marriage fund and then we can get married sooner. Doesn't that sound good? I can't wait for years to call you hubby, I'm too impatient for that."

Despite the bad feeling blossoming in his chest, Harry manages a nod and a laugh, warming up to the idea of getting married to Zayn Malik sooner rather than later. "Well, yeah. I- That does sound good, Z."

Zayn hums and heads to the bedroom to change his clothes. He pairs the gray dress pants with a crisp salmon pink button down and a black leather belt. He debates on adding a tie to his outfit, but ultimately decides against it because he might look too formal, especially when the required dress code is merely business casual. He is slipping his black socks on when Harry sits down beside him on top of their unmade bed.

"Zayn, I don't think you should go. I h-have this weird feeling in my chest," Harry whispers softly, his eyes cast down to his lap, where his hands are fiddling with the hem of his ratty shirt. "Like, something bad is going to happen."

The fear in Harry's voice is unmistakable and it doesn't sit well with Zayn, who hates it when his fiancé is distressed. "Harry, nothing's going to happen to me," he comforts. "Stop worrying. This'll only make you sick, love."

"But, Zayn-"

"Haz." Zayn levels Harry with a stern look. "We're going to be fine. I'll be driving carefully and it's only for an hour, at most. Well, technically two if you add the drive back. I'll probably be back after lunch. Tell you what, when I get home, let's go on a date. We can go to the park with Eclair and have some ice cream or something. Just quit worrying, yeah babes? I don't want you getting sick again."

Defeated, Harry lowers his head in a feeble nod, unable to say anything more.

Glancing at the saddened brunette, Zayn sighs softly, feeling guilty for raising his voice towards his younger lover. Although, he amends that it is for the better, because Harry need not worry, that Zayn will be fine and to stop panicking so much. With that, Zayn heads to the front door. The older lad puts on his best dress shoes and runs a hand through his drying hair, deciding against putting it up in a quiff. He is already in a bit of a time crunch as it is. It's already past 8 in the morning and he is supposed to meet his boss and potential client around 10 a.m. Hurrying, he picks up his satchel from the coat rack, checks if he has his song lyrics portfolio inside and pockets his phone. He scans the small rack behind the door for Liam's car keys and frowns at their absence. He remembers getting them from Liam last night when he has borrowed the car from their mate.