olivia [zarry]

chapter nine| I'd walk through fire for you

Harry's always been a morning person. He's long since adored the feeling of his eyes greeting the sunlight as his heart and lungs expand and he mentally prepares for another day. He's loved the smell of the morning ever since he can remember, loved how it felt making out the various colours painted across the sky as bright as the backlit images of cinema screens, loved how it almost always felt like new possibilities and fresh chances. He's always appreciated mornings in their entirety.

Zayn, on the other hand, is not a morning person and has never been. When they'd first met, Harry was sure Zayn didn't even know what morning looked like, much less was familiar with its scent, given that he rarely saw his brown-eyed boy before noon.

These days, he isn't as bad, but there still isn't a living soul willing to wake Zayn up before nine in the morning. Even Louis doesn't have the heart to do so, and he likes annoying everyone, so no one can blame Harry for being surprised when he finds Zayn waiting for him, two cups of coffee in hand, outside his lecture hall at the end of his eight o'clock class.

"I finished it," Zayn says as way of greeting, immediately handing one of the cups over to Harry.

Harry chuckles slightly. Zayn's eyes are large and bright, and he isn't sure if it's courtesy of the coffee or the excitement that seems to be radiating off him. "Good morning to you too."

"Sorry. Morning, babe." He steps closer and plants a quick kiss on Harry's cheek before backing away again. "How was class?"

Harry instantly pinks and curses under his breath. Get a hold of yourself, Styles. He orders the color on his cheeks to decamp, because he doesn't fucking blush, dammit.

Or he thought he didn't, but that's becoming increasingly harder to believe as Zayn seems to be doing that a lot lately, peppering him with pecks when he's particularly pleased with something Harry's said or done, or catching him off guard with a tight hug or two. Harry guesses he's just trying to get things back to the way they were before they grew apart.

He appreciates that, despite how flustered it makes him feel, so he smiles at Zayn. "It was alright. What are you doing here? I didn't think you knew the sun rose before nine." Harry didn't think it did either, but he stands corrected as the sun stands right in front of him.

Zayn rolls his eyes fondly, Harry likes to think, but ignores him. "I finished it."

"I'm assuming we're talking about your project here, and not all the episodes of Rick and Morty available on Netflix again."

"Well..."

"Zayn."

"I'm kidding." He giggles absolutely adorably. "Come with me to give it in? I know you have a break right now, and I don't have class until ten, so we have some time."

Harry pretends to mull it over. "Will you finally show it to me if I do? It's been days, and I still have no idea what you've painted."

Zayn shrugs, gesturing with his head in the direction they're headed. "I wanted it to be a surprise."

"So you've said," Harry narrows his eyes as they fall into step, "but I'm still not sure why."

Zayn shrugs again, bumping Harry's shoulder with his own. "You think too much."

Harry can't argue with that.