My Stepbrother - Zarry

Sunset Rum - 26

Harry's P.O.V

Everyone had left by now, the clock having hit 12.

I was slipping the various rings off my fingers, staring at the rose ring Zayn gave me on my birthday. I thought about the show that I had put on today, deciding that I should probably apologise to Zayn since Niall being head over heels for him wasn't really his fault.

I was putting my watch back in its box when the person I was thinking about walked through the door, coming to stand next to me at the vanity as he started taking off his pieces of jewellery too.

"Zayn? About what happened today-"

"I'm going out with your little friend next week." Zayn stated, not looking at me once.

I felt a pang of pain in my chest, not sure if it was physical or emotional.

"My friend? W-Which friend?"

"Your high school best friend," Zayn smirked, turning to look at me. He pulled me down by the collar of my shirt, taking his lips to my ear. "Niall Horan."

I'm pretty sure my heart jumped to my throat when he held me like that. My eyes traced over his smug expressions and followed his lean figure as he walked to the bathroom.

I resisted my urge to punch the wall. I wanted to barge into Niall's house and turn his life upside down, but then again, I never told him that I liked Zayn so that'd be unfair too.

Wait, did I really like Zayn? Or was it just my mind playing tricks on me? I was sure I wasn't anything off of straight before I came across him, but then I came across him.

I reminded myself how this would be wrong in so many ways, the major problem was him being my stepbrother, and anything between us could completely ruin my Mum's marriage, and I definitely didn't want to be the one to take away her happiness.

And then again, Zayn wasn't going to be gay any day of the year.

I thought about the time I almost kissed him, but perhaps I had got the scene mixed up in my mind and it was just me leaning into the kiss.

"You need a break." I whispered to myself, as I quickly changed into a black button-up shirt and skinny jeans.

Zayn came out around the time I was pulling my pants up, but I turned around just in time to hide my reddening cheeks.

The ones on my face, mind you.

I could basically feel his stare on me, from me buttoning up my jeans to me putting on my brown boots despite it being extremely hot outside.

Almost everything Zayn did since the day I first met him made me feel intimidated, yet intrigued. He could be a ball of sunshine one day, and be summoning the dead the next.

I fixed my hair in the mirror, putting on some cologne and walking over to the door. Just as I was shutting it, I felt a strong hold on my arm as I was pulled back in the room.

"Where are you going?" Zayn asked, standing so close I could feel his breath, with his grip on my wrist not loosening.

I hesitantly looked into his eyes, the hazel from them disappeared, replaced by a colour so dark you could call it black.