The Beautiful Escape [ZARRY]

3

In the summer, the green-painted summer-house was a magical place, where wisteria tumbled with vigorous old-fashioned roses up the clapboarded walls and over the roof. In Zayn's childhood, it had been the place his lover was going to confess. However, the romance was purely a seasonal thing; in the winter it became cold, unfriendly place his childish imagination had peopled with vampires and similar nasties- it will still be private though, hence the bit of impromptu singing practice.

His voice, never in his view solo material at the best of times, was every bit as rusty as he'd expected.

"I can't do it!" he groaned.

That new priest, Zayn decided quickly, was a dangerous man, who had shamelessly used his spaniel eyes and a proper amount of moral blackmail until Zayn had almost been falling over himself to stand in and perform the solo in the local Christmas concert.

It wasn't until he'd been halfway down the lane from the church that the full horror of what he'd done had hit Zayn. He'd suffered from terminal stage fright since that awful occasion in kindergarten when, after he'd been given the role of the donkey in the nativity play, the strain had proved too much. He'd frozen and held up actions until he had been carried off the makeshift stage.

What's the worst that could happen? What's a bit of public humiliation between friends??

A loud noise like a pistol shot interrupted the gloomy contemplation. If he hadn't automatically taken a startled step backwards, the large individual who along with a piece of rotten branch had fallen at Zayn's feet would have landed directly on top of him.

As it was, the summer-house didn't escape so lightly- the rough end of the branch penetrated the roof, ripping off several tiles, and travelled downwards, scooping a nasty big hole in the side of the structure. But at that moment, Zayn's concerns were reserved for the man lying in a crumpled heap at his feet.

He dropped down on his knees beside the man; phrases like 'recovery position' and 'clear airway' were running in his head. Despite the first aid course he'd completed early that year, he felt completely unprepared to cope with an actual emergency now that one had fallen at his feet.

"Please, please, don't be dead," he whispered, pressing his fingers to the pulse spot on the man's neck. To his immense relief, Zayn immediately felt a steady, reassuringly strong beat.

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AUTHOR'S NOTE:

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