Zarry One Shots

For Your Eyes Only

Zayn always sat on his knees, as a child, before going to bed, his hands clutched tight together and his small eyes shut tightly, whispering a secret small 'thankyou' for his family.

For Yaser who carried Zayn on his shoulders and danced to random radio tunes and until Zayn's stomach hurt with giggling or scribbled a beard on Zayn's delicate skin until he laughed that Zayn looked exactly like him, who held Zayn's hand tightly when they walked into the park while Zayn hid his face behind Yaser's hip.

For Trisha who looked at Zayn with her warm eyes like he was the best thing to happen to her, like a sun that shines and brings her warmth, Trisha who always knew when Zayn had a bad day and fixed it with her handmade biryani and ran her fingers through his hair until Zayn sighed and smiled like her 'sonshine'.

For his sisters, he has had his fair share of fights with them, but always ended up with hugs and sloppy kisses on the cheek and a chant of 'best bhai'.

So Zayn didn't really have anything to complain about, but he saw it then, on his fourteenth birthday.

Yaser was busy mixing the batter for the cake, humming an old urdu song, he looked at Trisha and Trisha smiled back at him, a little shy twist of her lips.

Zayn felt it then, the flood of a beautiful understanding and an underlying sense of promise, a promise to hold on, a promise to give away every emotion in small sensitive touches and shy smiles.

And he wondered, wondered if he'll ever get this, if he'll ever look at someone and his heart will stutter, with an emotion so strong, he'll be breathless.

Zayn asked Yaser once, while they sat under the sky, how did love feel?
Yaser smiled at him, a crinkled smile and Zayn could see the resemblance everyone pointed out,
'It makes you breathless like you feel full, full in a happy way. And you can never have enough of it, it's a constant craving. '
Zayn looked with wide eyes at his father.

The last time Zayn had felt breathless, was when he scored the winning goal for his school at a tournament and Yaser ran to him, in the middle of the field, where Zayn stood frozen and shaking. Yaser hugged him so tight, Zayn was breathless with it, he couldn't breathe but it was a beautiful feeling.

So Zayn wondered again, if he'll ever know what it's like.

But now, laying on his bed, with the moonlight filtering in and casting a blue glow, Zayn looks at Harry, laying next to him.

Harry smiles, hesitant at first, bites his lip and then lets go, his dimple deepening with the stretch of his lips, and carefully tucks a curl behind his ear. He tentatively reaches out and wraps his fingers around Zayn's neck, brushes Zayn's jaw with his thumb and looks up at Zayn.

And it's like Zayn's on the football field again because he's breathless.

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Hi. ❤️