One Direction OneShots and Drabbles

Just A Little Ink- Zarry

Zayn's P.O.V.

I held Harry's hand tightly as he stared at me with his piercing green eyes, full of fear. I was quite relaxed, I mean, my hand, but Harry's nervousness was evenly displayed through his knuckles. I don't know why he was so afraid of getting the tattoo, he had many, elaborate graphic pieces, yet he got terrified of the needle every single time. He was getting three nails etched into his skin right under the heart and beside the hanger- don't ask why, I could never understand what his tattoo's meant. If they even meant anything. "Zayn," Harry strung out with his eyes clinched shut as the needle make contact again, "don't worry, it's almost over, and it looks nice," I assured. He slightly peaked from behind his own eyelids and smirked at me, revealing his everlasting charm and good-looks. He winced again as the needle pressed down harshly on his arm again, "sorry, I have to make a fine point," the tattoo artist informed. "I don't get it," I started, while both of them glanced at me, "you've had so many tattoos, why does it still bother you?" His eyes widened in pain and he squeezed my hand tighter, "I don't know, I think I have sensitive ski-," he let out a blood curdling scream. The tattoo artist slapped the freshly broken skin, "you're all done, cutie," yeah, yeah, jealousy, whatever, "I rubbed his hand as I continued to chuckle to myself, "it's not funny, Zayn," he yelled once again. He finally sat up from the chair and gave me a quick kiss and thanked me. We stood and talked over the precautions to take with the new ink, although we'd already heard it over one hundred times. I decided to slap his arm again and he winced and turned to me whispering in my ear, "that's why I get so many tattoos." I looked at him with a confused look on my face, "because we always have amazing sex that night. If you wouldn't slap it so much it wouldn't have become a kink."

I don't really like this one buttt...