S-s-stutter [Zarry]

snow and sensitivity

+Zayn

He's still sound asleep when I slip out of bed. I rummage through several cabinets and brew some coffee. There's some pancake mix so I start making that, switching on the griddle. Sleepyhead wraps his arms around my waist and yawns.

"Hi cutie." He giggles and I turn, pressing my lips to his cheek. His hair is sticking up. It looks wild but when I try to fix it, he grumpily swats my hand away.

"Why are you making breakfast?"

"Why not," I grin.

"You didn't have to Zayn. You've already done enough for me."

He goes over to the fridge and chops some fresh strawberries before finding the whipped cream.

"What syrup do you like?"

"Maple," I reply jokingly.

"I have original, pecan, blueberry, strawberry-"

"They're going to expire. Who needs that much syrup?"

"Ouch, stop stepping on my pride." He gives a little pout, pulling out the original maple syrup and a bar of butter.

"M'sorry babe," I wrap my arms around him and lick the shell of his ear.

"Ewww, get off," he squirms. "You just licked my ear, you sicko. The pancakes are burning!"

I jump to tend to the pancakes. Mine are always golden brown, I can't ruin them.

"They are not! You lied to me."

He laughs and I chase him around the kitchen with a spatula in hand.

"Don't lick my ear again."

"Or what? You'll bite me?"

He grabs my wrist, his teeth grazing my neck.

"Okay stop. I'm seriously going to burn the pancakes this time."

He laughs and squirts some whipped cream into his mouth as I plate the perfect cakes.

Harry finds joy in making a face out of the strawberries and saturating his stack of pancakes with syrup.

"That's pure sugar."

There's whipped cream on his nose and I laugh as he tries to lick it off.

"It's impossible."

So I lean in towards him and lick it off. "What's up with you licking things Zayn?"

He dips his finger into the cream and smears it on my lips.

Before he lets me lick it off, his lips find mine, his tongue flicking over the dollop of whipped cream.

It slides into my mouth, rough and wet obscenely pink. He tastes so sweet, my moan hits the back of his throat. He's somehow in my chair, his legs bracketing my hips and my hands are fisted in his hair.

He pulls away trying to catch his breath but I tug at his curls, prompting him to move back, our lips reconnecting.

My lips move to his neck, gently sinking into his skin and sucking small brusies. My hands cup his ass, massaging his flesh.

"Z-zayn."

I stop, my lips swollen and eyes wide.

"Not too fast," he blushes and climbs off of me.

"I'm sorry babe."

His fork pokes at his pancakes but he doesn't eat another bite.

"You okay?"

"Yeah."

He's staring blankly at the table, his fingers flicking the corner of a napkin.

"I don't want to push things. Never be afraid to tell me to stop."

He nods silently, his eyes suddenly wet with tears.

Wrong choice of words Zayn.

"C'mere."

He gets up from his seat and I pull him onto my lap, my arms enveloping him.

"Look at me babe."

I gently tilt his chin so our eyes are meeting.

"Do you trust me?"

He nods and I caress his cheek. His head tilts from my touch.

I feel myself melt a bit. It's on the tip of my tongue, I'm fighting to hold it in. It's too Zayn, you'll scare him away.

"Is something bothering you?"

It's somewhat ironic, the teary-eyed, messy haired boy is asking if I'm okay.

"I...it's nothing."

"Okay," he kisses the corner of my mouth, a smile on his face. "What do you want to do today babe?"

He clears the table and I watch him at the sink, his fingers scrubbing away grime. Harry is a clean freak. Washing dishes as if the dishwasher isn't effective enough. Has to do it twice. Everything is stored and tucked away neatly. Perfectly folded towels, not a speck of dust anywhere.

I'm definitely not checking out the way his ass wiggles or the shape of his thighs. He glances at me, catching me staring and laughs.

I've never been much of a blusher but my cheeks grow warm.

"How about the park," he suggests.

"It's bloody cold outside Harry."

He shrugs, his cheeks flushing.

"It was just an idea Zayn. Nevermind."

Now you've done it.

"Hey, I wasn't trying to upset you. How about a movie? I can cuddle you until that pout disappears."

A small encouraging smile and I'm up out of the chair, flinging my arms around him, peppering the side of his face with kisses.

Harry is sensitive. I have to be more careful.

Biting it back again.

Those words.

I love you.

"Babe I changed my mind. We can go to the park."

His eyes gleam and he nuzzles deeper into the crook of my neck, a small giggle escaping his lips.

"You are so precious," I tease.

"Zaaayn," he groans.

I hate the cold but there's no time to hold a grudge. Dressing in layers, tugging on a coat. Harry skips around in a hoodie like the cold doesn't phase him.

And he's skilled at making snowballs, pelting me several times, laughing at my pain. The cold seeps through my clothes and I shiver but realize I haven't had this much fun in ages. He drops into the blanket of snow to make a snow angel.

"Harry," I chuckle. "You'll get hypothermia."

He jumps out of the snow, a pile of white powder scattering around.

"Let's warm up in the library."

His cold hand slips into mine, his neck falling onto my shoulder.

"I'm sorry you hate the cold. I think the snow is beautiful."

"You're beautiful."

Muttered under my breath but I know he hears me.

"Zayn," he says softly. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"There's something I want to say but I'm afraid."

"At least you don't sleep with a nightlight," he says jokingly. "You know I think-"

"I love you."