🎄 Underneath the Tree 🎄 Zarry

Two ❄️

Harry doesn't believe in curses or magic, or whatever it is that people blame their troubles and misfortunes on. Because if he did, he'd definitely say that the phone call from Niall was cursed since from the moment he had hung up, everything seemed to go to shit.

    Firstly, the guy Harry wanted to fuck was already occupied with someone else by the time Harry got back. He hasn't gotten laid in ages thanks to finals and all that, and now he had to suffer his sexual frustration for even longer.

    Then Harry proceeds to get a B from his last exam, the easiest one, the one he was supposed to ace with his eyes closed and yet, there he was with a B. He doesn't even know why he got the B but he guesses it's in the past now.

    And lastly, he has to meet Zayn. In... seven minutes ago and he's still a block away. So he rushes through the pedestrians walking with Christmas shopping and hot beverages in their hands, all of them happily looking at the hordes of snow all around and the snowflakes falling from the sky as if there wasn't already enough snow covering every square inch of New York City. Surely, Harry slips near the door and almost plasters over the ground. The only thing keeping him from bruising his ass and getting himself wet and dirty is the door handle, which he nearly rips out but both his ass and the handle survive.

    He walks in, shaking off the mounds of snow off of himself and spots Zayn nearly immediately. At a table near the other window, thankfully not the one Harry almost slipped in front of, Zayn sits alone, the table empty save for Zayn's leather gloves. He's looking at his phone and yep, he's just as hot as he was a month and a half ago when Harry last saw him.

    Harry takes a deep breath and approaches him, saying a quiet "Hi" before he begins taking his coat off. Zayn looks up, smiling upon seeing Harry and muttering a "Hello" of his own.

    "Sorry I'm late," Harry breathes out as he sits down. "The snow... you know," he gestures with his hand.

    "Yeah, no, it's fine," Zayn smiles again. "Don't worry, you're not like... forty minutes late. It's nothing."

    Harry nods, nervously rubbing his hands over his black jeans which are somehow a little bit damp from the snow, before looking up at Zayn. "Have you ordered yet?"

    "No," Zayn shakes his head a little. "I waited for you. Figured it's the polite thing to do."

    "Polite, yeah," Harry breathes out a laughs. "Anyways, I am so sorry Niall roped you into this. It's... embarrassing and honestly, you don't have to go with me. You barely know me, you've never met my family it's just... yeah. I don't want you to waste your break on this."

    Zayn laughs, stupidly attractive as usual and Harry wants to run away and never look back. Why is it always the jerks that are the hottest?

    "It's okay, Harry," Zayn says with his blinding smile. "You absolutely don't have to apologize. We're friends, yeah? You're not the worst company, better than my roommate's old ass dog that slobbers all over everything anyway. Besides, Niall would probably cut my balls of if I didn't go so... for the good of my possible future children, I'll go with you. It can be fun. My family doesn't really do Christmas like that either way. It'd be a new experience."

    "Is that why you're not going home?" Harry asks brazenly and the moment the question leaves his mouth, he wants to slap himself. Way to go, stick his nose in Zayn's private life before they even leave for the vacation.

    "I wouldn't be going home, technically," Zayn says then, thankfully not calling out Harry for being rude. "We always celebrate Christmas somewhere away from New York. They're all going to Switzerland, last year we went to Aspen and I nearly broke my leg snowboarding so I'm not hitting the slopes with them this year. The whole thing's a bit complicated but... whatever, what family vacation isn't, right?"