Until you came (Zarry) /English Version

44. Top or Bottom?

Louis

Silence, absolute peace and quiet.

White clouds pass me by, soft as silk, white as snow. My life is in a flashback. Childhood memories are awakened that I had long forgotten. We are standing in front of my parents' house. Father carries me on his arm, my sisters hold on to his trouser legs and mum smiles. It is the picture of a happy family on a summer's day. I want to talk to them, call for my mother, but no one hears me.

I try hard to open my eyes. The eyelids flutter, all the limbs of my body hurt like hell. Loud babble of voices surrounds my silence. I hear single fragments of words and feel people were bustling around me.

Motionless, I lie between the soft white clouds and taste the warm liquid flowing out of my mouth.

Speaking is difficult for me. My mouth can hardly speak the syllables and my head is throbbing with pain.

Am I alive?

"Zayn...Zayn." I breathe into the air. "Where's Zayn?"

The physical exertion is so great and takes all my strength. "Zayn", I try to call for him before my eyes close with tiredness.

Zayn

The doorbell rings. Rise and shine. Still overtired I get up and put on a shirt and jeans that are much too tight. It was pretty late last night. The preparation of my exhibition has taken up all my time. I still needed individual descriptions to the paintings. So I sat over the texts for hours, wrote, revised and finally printed them out. There is nothing more to do. Exactly twenty-four hours before the opening, everything is ready and perfect. On my way to the window I trip over two empty bottles of red wine, which I had drunk alone yesterday. Next to them is a full ashtray on the floor.

Malik, you clearly drink and smoke too much.

It's ringing again. It can only be Harry, who spontaneously stops by. The old window creaks when opening. I love these sounds. That's life. Every thing in this apartment has a life, its characteristics. The parquet floor creaks with every step I take and reminds me of my student days. It was for this reason alone that I decided to buy this apartment. Nothing here is sterile, symmetrical and new.

My eyes now turn to the street and there he stands, the curly head, somewhat out of breath and with bright eyes. A few seconds later I take him in my arms. "Hazza, darling,' I mumble gently into his ear and inhale his flowery body scent that flows through the hallway.

"Zee, I missed you so much. Have I come at an inconvenient time?" he asks. "I simply would not have stood it any longer without you."

With a shake of the head I deny his question. "Please, Harry. The love of my life never comes at a bad time." My hands hold his rosy cheeks and I press a big kiss on his full lips.

"Zaynie, I need you like the air to breathe. One morning without you and I feel incomplete," he whispers and makes me happy.

"Have you had breakfast yet?" I want to know and gently stroke a curl that has got caught in his eyelashes from his face. He shakes his head. "You haven't eaten anything? Then hurry up. Off to the kitchen with you. I'll make us something delicious." Harry doesn't move a millimeter.

"Oh," he whispers promisingly, "my breakfast is right in front of me, Zee."

Delicate, slightly cool fingertips touch my naked upper body under my shirt and a shiver runs down my spine. "Hazza? What exactly are you up to?"

Moss green eyes sparkle mysteriously and longingly. And like every time, I want to sink into them. With his very hoarse voice he says:

"As you can see, I'm preparing my own breakfast." Now he grins impudently and fumbles with the buttons of my jeans.