Reaper [Zarry]

Harry

I should just quit my job. No, I should just quit everything.

End it all right now. I'm tempted to, rummaging through the kitchen drawers, butcher's knife glinting under the harsh fluorescent lighting.

Would anybody care?

I groan, slamming the drawer shut. What has gotten into me? I've been so damn selfish lately.

I've felt so dejected and worthless. It's like I have no purpose left.

That's when I think of him, the man with warm amber eyes and skin the color of caramel. Is there a reason he blew me off?

Maybe something is bothering him. I sure hope he's okay.

It's easy for me to worry about other people but when it comes to myself I couldn't care less.

It drives my mother mad. She thinks I'm clinically depressed or something. I think I'm a workaholic with nothing to look forward to.

She's right, as always. I need to take a break.

That's why I call up my mates and end up in a bar on the South side of town. I'm happy and giddy, alcohol swimming through my veins. Liam swirls around his glass, brows shooting up before he turns to me.

"Is he a friend of yours?"

Zayn, dressed in black skinnies and a gray band tee, tucked in the corner of the buidling. He has a drink in his hand and tips it to his mouth, smoothly taking a small sip.

"We've met," I dance around the question.

"He's so...pretty," his voice falters. "Go," he nudges my side. "He's into you. Go talk to him."

"Hi," I sqeak out nervously, tucking a stray curl behind my ear.

"Hey," he replies amused, smirk on his face. "You look great."

"Thank you," my cheeks flush. "As do you. I feel like I owe you for spilling on your shirt."

"No," he laughs softly. "It's okay. This is a much more pleasant way to meet. Who knew we'd both end up here?"

"It's so crazy. Our paths cross a lot, don't they?"

His fingers brush through his jet black hair and he flashes a bright white smile.

"They sure do."

He seems so relaxed and I'm so stiff, stressed over everything.

"Can I buy you a drink?"

I'm nodding my head, mouth dry as I follow him to the bar, spinning around on the stool.

"Having fun?"

"Yeah," I giggle. "But I'm getting dizzy."

"Oh," he frowns but gladly orders me a drink and slides it to me.

It's sweet and my tongue trails over my bottom lip, savoring the taste. God, it's strong.

He's studying me, gaze intense and unwavering and I blush again. Should I be concerned? Is he stalking me?

"Sorry," he mumbles, turning away from me. "I just thought you seemed a little down."

"I'm okay," I lie.

He cocks his head to the side, eyes glimmering.

"Are you?"

For some reason I feel like talking to him. Maybe it's because he's a stranger and we're both slightly intoxicated. It doesn't feel like he'd judge me and I'm itching to get a few things off my chest.

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

His hand slips over mine, thumb stroking my skin. It feels oddly comforting and my heartbeat slows. My body feels so tired, head so heavy.

I just want to sleep forever. My eyes meet his. Honey with flakes of gold. I'm drifting off slowly, eyelids heavy as sleep tugs at me.

"Everything will be okay," he murmurs. He reaches out to touch my face, hand stretching to caress my cheek.

"I'm s-s-so sleepy," I slur, drowsy and exhausted.

"I know," his voice is still a whisper. Comforting and smooth. "It's okay to get some rest. You deserve it."

I'm trying so hard to fight it off but his touch is so tender and his tone is so gentle it's nearly impossible.

"Zayn," I say quietly, lashes grazing my cheeks. "I want to be friends."

His hand falls limply from my cheek, eyes wide.

"I should go. I'm really sorry. There's uh...I left a candle burning in my room."

Likely story.

"Please," I whimper. "Stay."

"You don't need me Harry, you're so unbelievably strong."

"No," warm tears prick at my eyes. "I want you to touch me."

My throat burns from the alcohol and I'm disoriented, vision blurred.

"You'll regret ever meeting me," he whispers, eyes so sad I nearly weep for him.

"Why?"

He shakes his head silently and I bite my tongue, keeping the tears at bay.

"I'm just not good for you. Trust me. You deserve so much more."

He's on his feet and I'm begging him with wet eyes.

Don't go. There's something about you. You're worth it Zayn.

"Harry, I-"

I'm stumbling closer and his arms are wrapping around me, steadying my waist.

"Easy," he murmurs, brushing some hair behind my ear.

My neck tingles where his cool fingertips touched me. He's always so cold.

I let my head fall onto his shoulder, body slumping like it weighs a solid ton.

He rubs comforting circles into the small of my back and it happens again, my heartbeat slowing.

Tick tick. Tick tick. Tick tick. Tick tick.

Until it feels like it's barely beating and I have no strength to do anything. I'm just melting in his arms, body limp and weak.

It's sweet surrender, my strained eyes shutting.

"You should have stayed away," his voice crackles. "I'm so sorry. I tried to warn you."

Tick tick. Tick tick. Tick tick.

"You'd hate me if you really knew."

Tick tick. Tick tick.

"I don't want to do this," his voice is so strained, so raw.

I think I'm dreaming. I'm floating.

"Harry...I swear I never wanted to hurt you. I hope someday you'll forgive me."

Nothing about this hurts. I've never felt so safe. My cheek creases his thin cotton shirt, the drowsiness growing stronger, deep sleep tugging at me.

I need it. I want it so desperately. I haven't slept well in forever.

"You can do it," he encourages. "Go to sleep beautiful."

Tick tick.

His thumbs press into my skin and knead out all the knots, fingers tracing up and now my spine. A jolt of electricity runs through me. It's a sliw wave passing through me; a power surge of flying sparks.

Everything tingles as his lips find the crook of my neck, tickling my sensitive skin.

"Goodnight Harry."

Tick.

A/N: ZAYN WYD 😭😭😭