Literature

details

"Zayn," I whisper.

He looks so content, his cheek creased upon the pillow, his long lashes brushing over his tan skin. His hair is a ruffled mess so I chuckle and reach for my phone on the bedside table, snapping a picture.

My mind takes a mental picture, never wanting to forget the way he looks, so peaceful, his chest slowly rising and falling with each shallow breath. My heart captures the moment, fluttering as he opens his eyes.

"G'morning babe," he mumbles and gives a sheepish smile.

I can't resist the urge to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

"I haven't brushed my teeth," he grumbles.

"And I care because?"

"You're sassy."

I just give a dimpled smile and tug him up out of bed.

"I made cinnamon rolls."

He arches his brows, his nose scrunching as he detects the sweet smell.

"I bake with my mum all the time so I thought I'd make something for you."

He looks very impressed as be bites into a golden brown bun, the icing spilling over the edge. "This is delicious Harry."

"As sweet as me?"

"Almost," he grins. "But not quite."

He brews some coffee and I wrap my arms around him, my head resting on his shoulder.

"I could get used to this."

"Me too. Only if I get to see you in your boxers every morning though."

My cheeks redden and he turns to kiss me, the sweet taste of icing still lingering on his lips.

I chase them hungrily, convinced that it's never enough. We're always too far apart.

but even
when
our bodies
are apart
our hearts
are
always
touching

"Shit Zayn."

"What's wrong love?"

"How am I going to get to school?" He laughs at me, his arms fastening around my waist.

"I'll drive you babe."

"Zayn, you can't just drive me to school. You're my teacher. If someone sees us together they'll get suspicious."

"Lie, lie, deny," he smirks. "Oh woe is me, I had a flat tire."

"I can't believe you're telling me to lie about it," my body shakes with laughter. "So I'm going to say I was having car trouble and you just happened to stumble across me? Likely story."

"Fine," he huffs. "Call one of your crazy mates and have them pick you up."

"You're so stubborn. Maybe I'll say something about my car battery not starting, that sounds more believable."

...

"Harry stop," he exclaims. A fit of giggles overtake me as I change the station back. "Harry I swear!"

"What are you going to do, attack me with your mouth?"

"Don't tempt me. We are not listening to The Rolling Stones in my car."

I poke my tongue out at him as the Red Hot Chili Peppers spurt out the speakers. "Really Zayn?"

"I like this station. Besides, I don't pick the songs. Just shut up and enjoy the music," he snaps.