Him [Zarry]

Serial Flakes

On Friday evening when Harry came to the front door to leave with Liam, he received a strange look.

"Why are you dressed like that?" Liam asked.

"Good Lord if I had a dollar every time I was asked that question I'd live alone in a mansion on a mountain." Harry muttered, folding his arms.

"Like what? How am I dressed?"

"Very...bland. You're just wearing a plain t-shirt." Liam obersved.

"I was told by Zayn to show up and act normal, so I guess that's a good thing." Harry said.

"Um, sure. Let's go." Liam sighed, tossing Harry his coat that'd been hanging by the door.

"Liam I don't need a coat to walk across the street. I appreciate it though." Harry said, putting it back.

"Alright tough guy." Liam chuckled.

"So he told you to act normal?"

"Yep. So obviously I have to lick all of his silverware and strip down during dinner." Harry said.

"Of course. It's the only option." Liam nodded, trying not to smile.

"But, didn't you tell me you were going to try and be friends with him?"

"I did. That starts tonight." Harry said, knowing he'd have to constantly keep that in mind.

Liam nodded, ringing the doorbell.

Louis answered the door, his whole face lighting up when he saw Liam.

He bounced forward and hugged him, making Liam stumble back a little.

Harry stood there awkwardly as they shared a few kisses. "C'mon." Louis smiled, pulling Liam inside by his hand.

"Hi." Harry said sharply, feeling properly ignored.

"Oh, hey Harry." Louis smiled, he and Liam disappearing in the kitchen.

Harry could hear Eric in there cooking and singing, which triggered his urge to vomit.

He knew he couldn't go in there.

Harry looked towards the living room, seeing Zayn sitting in the window seat across the room reading a book.

He was curled up with an olive green blanket wrapped around him, a few hairs hanging down in his face.

He looked so small, but far from delicate.

Harry could tell he was concentrating hard because he hadn't moved those hairs yet.

Plus his eyebrows were pulled so close together, and his lengthy thick eyelashes hid his eyes.

Harry could've stared at him like this for years.

He slowly walked over to him, his hands held behind his back.

Zayn looked up from his book when he saw movement out of the corner of his eye.

"Hi." Harry smiled.

Zayn closed his book with one hand, moving his hair away from his face with the other.

He didn't speak, and barely acknowledged Harry with a nod.

"What're you reading?" Harry asked.

"It's um, a poetry book." Zayn said, looking at the cover.

"Really? That sounds interesting." Harry said sincerely.

"I can never read for too long." Zayn found himself admitting.

"Why not?" Harry asked, leaning against the wall.