Room 301 [Zarry]

scorching like hell

Zayn is always talking about people here reaching for something seemingly unattainable, the glowing green light in Fitzgerald's The Great Gatsby. That's Hollywood he says, just replace the green light with a star on the concrete, your name printed on it.

He remains humble nonetheless, he isn't searching for anything out of reach, I assure him a million times. His dream is me and my dream is him. We get caught in the glittering city lights, get lost in each other all tangled up in the sheets. I've permanently moved into 301 with him, messily strew laundry on the floor, trip over my own shoes at the end of the bed. Zayn likes to keep things tidy, chases after me and tickles me until I give in, promise to be less unorganized (but that never seems to happen).

Days are spent along the Malibu sands, rubbing sunscreen into each other's skin and Zayn squinting when I steal his shades from the top of his head, see the world through yellow lenses. We're interlocking puzzle pieces, toes buried in the sand, his arms wrapped around my waist as his lips find the shell of my ear. He tells me stories and I hum along happily, eyes closed as I listen to the crazing waves, breeze blowing through my hair.

We hike new trails, explore the city, discovering new things all the time. Infinity swimming pools and sipping margaritas and basking in the sun. It's the best summer I can remember.

Tonight is relaxed, he holds me in his arms and my toes are restless, trying to find cool spots at the end of the sheets. He laughs, tells me he wishes we were far away from everything where he could see a thousand twinkling stars.

"There are stars in your eyes," I whisper. He smiles, says nothing as his finger traces the outline of my lips. "Entire galaxies."

He leaves an open-mouthed kiss on my shoulder and a good shiver runs down my spine. Shivers and flapping wings and losing my breath in the best way.

"I jumped off the balcony didn't I," he asks, voice shaking as the subject darkens. "That's why I get that sinking feeling in my chest, my anxiety shoots through the roof out there." Something tells me he can still picture that might vividly, recall all the missteps that led up to that one fateful moment.

"Let's not talk about this," I whisper, fingers etching patterns on his forearm. "Do you understand the fragility of human life and how miraculous this is?"

"What do you mean," his breath falls like feathers on my skin.

"This is life giving us a second chance, this is us realizing our dreams before it's too late...not getting caught up in sales figures and flashing lights and rolled out red carpets. It isn't about chasing fame or signing autographs-"

I lose my train of thought as I search his eyes, shades of honey and toffee, shimmering flecks of gold. He traces over the lines on the palm of my hand. "I thought I wasn't worthy of anything, I didn't fully learn to love myself until I met you. You showed me the meaning of love Harry. Isn't that the dream, to be loved by someone?"

My forehead rests against his, heart taking all of these wild dives. "Kiss me," I murmur.

"S'that what you want," he teases, hand moving to cup the side of my face. "Tell me what you want Harry."

"You," my breath falters. "You Zayn, always you."

My lips vibrate as he gently hums against them, his fingers brushing through my hair. "The city of angels," he murmurs, breath lost in my curls. "All I see is you H-"

he takes me to heaven, he takes me to heaven, fingertips touching the clouds

undresses me, slips off his rings, hands so delicate

there's static in my brain, a warm fuzzy feeling in my chest as he whispers, tickling the shell of my ear before his teeth gently tug at my earlobe

I let him paint my neck, strokes of red and purple, tongue the perfect paint brush. There's a quiver in my heart, tremble in my thighs as his knee nudges my legs apart. Soft ripping pain, little nips as he claims me, makes marks on my skin.

Mapping a trail out as his hands wander my torso. My nipples soften inside his mouth, eyes fluttering closed. Tiny gasps and pants, my fingers are slipping in his hair. I leave indents with my nails, scratch all the way down his back as his tongue explores

There's the quiet knock of the headboard against the wall, the rattle of rings on the bedside table. Waves in the half empty glass of water, a flood inside me as he brushes against my hardness, lips traveling back up, grabbing the side of my face to kiss me like he's love-starved.

It's a longing kiss. My lips are so swollen, he's made a mess of me and it's beautiful. He's beautiful, eyelashes grazing my cheek as his mouth moves to my jaw.

"I'm alive," he whispers, lips sweeping. "I'm alive. I'm alive. I'm alive."

Set free the caged up butterflies, wild wings and flying free. A collision, he can't stop kissing me and I'm unraveling beneath him. Unwinding, unwinding, frayed strings and shallow breathing.

Everything has been leading up to this one moment. Flashes of every moment we've ever created together, lucid snapshots. There's a reel of film inside my head. The only movie I'd watch a million times.

Us driving too fast, too close to the edge of the cliff. Winding curves and Pacific Ocean views. Chasing danger, chancing death too many times to count. Because we're wild and free. Young and in love and untouchable. A sense of invulnerability.

Palm trees swaying in the breeze, the moon reflected on the water. His arms around my waist.

The best thing that has ever happened to me.

He has me. I'm yielding, reaching for his hand.

"Make love to me."

His breath falters, fingers lacing with mine. Lips brushing my knuckles, there's light bursting in his eyes, brighter than an entire sky full of stars. Forget about those, they died out a billion years ago. Our love feels brand new, always sending off sparks and setting each other on fire. Heat pooled in my stomach, heat in my cheeks. Warm, bare skin and kindling flames.

Scorching like hell but he takes me to heaven.