Veronica [Zarry]

breaking point

A few deep breaths and a squeeze of the hand.

He knocks on the door nervously and I rub his shoulders, chuckle as I tell him to relax.

The door flies open and his mum embraces him. It's a heartwarming sight. They have the same soft, crinkly smile.

She wipes at her eyes and pulls me in for a hug, leaves a kiss on my cheek.

"Come in boys."

I hear excited squeals before I see his two younger sisters bounding down the stairs.

Zayn's face lights up and he scoops one into his arms, peppers her face with kisses.

"Hi guys," I grin, waving at them. "I'm Harry."

"You're cute," the older one giggles.

There's a faint blush on my cheeks and his mum chuckles, shaking my hand and introducing herself.

"I'm Trisha, it's so nice to meet you."

She's so sweet, why was Zayn nervous about this?

"Sometimes my baby has problems making friends, he's just so shy-"

"Mum," he groans. "You're embarrassing me. Where's dad?"

"He's in his office sweetheart, don't bother him."

His face falters and he swallows thickly before sinking onto the couch.

"Hey," I gently touch the crook of his arm and he looks at me, tears swimming in his eyes.

"He hates Veronica, he thinks it's sick and wrong. My dad hardly accepts me as is...he wants me to date a woman Harry."

"At the end of the day babe he's still your father and he should love and support you no matter what."

"No," he says angrily, pushing my chest.

His sisters look startled and his mother scolds him, telling him not to speak about his father that way.

"Zaynie," the smaller sister pouts and he mumbles an apology, ruffling her hair. "Sorry Saf."

"So Harry is your boyfriend?"

"He um...well we're very good friends. Harry makes me really happy and we care about each other a lot."

She glances over at me and laughs, tugging at one of my curls.

"Why would you like my brother?"

We all laugh as Zayn pokes his tongue out at her and he pulls her into his lap.

"Zayn!"

His father's booming voice echoes off the halls. He slowly makes his way down the stairs, eyes darting between the two of us.

"I'm glad you're not in that hideous costume. You do realize that you're a man, don't you?"

"Yaser," Trisha says softly, giving him a knowing look.

Don't be that way she mouths. Be supportive.

"That's not fair," I say voice shaking. "When he dresses that way it empowers him."

"And just who do you think you are," he asks coldly, arching a brow at me.

"Dad, this is Harry-"

"I asked him," he snaps, turning to me. His eyes are so judgmental a shiver runs down my spine.

Zayn can hardly breathe, shooting me a look, eyes wide in panic.

"You've raised a very headstrong and driven son. He's also compassionate and truly has a heart of gold. I really hope you realize that."

His face softens a bit. "I do and I'm very proud of all that he has accomplished."

His mum gathers his sisters and leaves the three of us to talk through things in private. I wonder if she's afraid of what he might say.

"What is this about Zayn?"

He's shaking so bad, I rub up and down his arm, break a little as he starts to cry.

"It's okay babe," I assure, cupping his face in my hands, our noses brushing. "I love you."

Resentment flashes through his eyes. "You," he points his finger at me, vein popping in his neck. "What have you done to my son?"

"Stop," Zayn pleads weakly. "Please dad."

"Do you think this is okay? Do you think I should support your decision? Being gay is a sin. You'll burn in hell for that-"

Zayn reaches his breaking point, stands up suddenly, eyes bloodshot.

"You will never be a father to me," he screams. "I hate you!"

I try to console him as I guide him out of the house.

"Babe I feel terrible, I was never expecting this."

"Just hold me," he whimpers, body going limp.

My arms wrap him up, keep him safe and guarded. I kiss the top of his head, let him cry on my shoulder.

Broken little sobs that stab me straight through the heart.

"He'll come around Zayn, give him some time."

"The world is rooting against us Harry. Maybe no one is supposed to love someone as fucked up as me."

"Stop that," I beg. "We're going home and doing whatever makes you happy."

"Can you do my makeup," he requests shyly.

"Of course babe."

I pull away, kiss his forehead. The car ride home is oddly quiet, silence stretching between us.

When we get there he giggles softly as I tug him into the bathroom.

I'm fully focused on him. Everything around him blurs as I concentrate on enhancing his natural features.

"You are so beautiful," I exhale, tracing the outline of his lips.

Every time I do this I get better, tapping off extra eyeshadow as I blend it in his crease.

"What shade are you using?"

"I'm attempting a smokey eye. Hope I don't set off the fire alarm," I chuckle.

"S'that mean the look is gonna be hot?"

He bites at his bottom lip seductively, eyelashes batting.

"Okay you tease," I bite back a grin. "What's this cool toned brown powder for?"

"That's to contour my cheekbones. It's not very beginner friendly," he says, picking up a brush and dipping it in.

There's a bit of kickback as he dusts off the brush, hollows his cheeks and swipes it on his skin.

"Wow," I say in disbelief. "That makes a huge difference. Can I put on the sparkly stuff?"

"The highlighter," he corrects with a laugh. "Of course you can. Use the fan brush babe."

I leave the mascara to him but swipe on a subtle, nude lipstick before letting him look in the mirror.

"What do you think," I ask excitedly.

"Honestly," he laughs. "I think this look is scary good."