The Beautiful Escape [ZARRY]

13

Despite Zayn's assurance, Harry's silent response- this man could do things with an eyebrow that defied belief- made it abundantly clear that he wouldn't have taken his words at face value if he'd had Zayn's hand on a stack of Bibles.

Zayn found it increasingly hard to hide his growing hostility as he carefully scraped a clear area in the condensation on the windscreen in a businesslike manner.

Harry couldn't decide if he was being criticised or not. However, there was nothing ambiguous about Zayn's disapproval- the stuff was radiating from him in waves. Harry caught the full force of it almost as clearly as the light twitched; it was light, flowery and vaguely distracting, but it made a pleasant change from the wet-dog smell that wafted every so often from the direction of the old blanket tossed over the back seat. 

Harry watched as Zayn wiped the excess moisture from his face with the back of his hand; his skin was remarkably clear, slightly tanned and very lightly freckled. 

"She doesn't like wet weather," Zayn explained defensively as the engine stuttered and fizzled on the first three attempts.

"Who doesn't?"

"Bingo!" Zayn gave a gentle sigh of relief when the engine eventually came to life. "She's temperamental sometimes," he explained, banging the dashboard affectionately. 

Harry wasn't really surprised that he endowed the rust pile of metal with human characteristics. It was entirely in keeping with the sentimental, passionate traits this guy had displayed so far.

"The heater will warm up in a minute," he promised with another trusting beam in his direction. He wasn't the type to hold a grudge, it seemed. "I'll take the back road and we'll be there in no time at all."

"Good," Harry said, turning his face deliberately to the dismal view through the window. He hoped Zayn would take a hint and leave him in peace, since there wasn't any place he could escape if Zayn didn't.

The snub was cautious enough to bring a flush of annoyance to Zayn's cheeks. There was nothing he would have liked moe than to let his moody passenger brood in peace, he wasn't Zayn's idea of the ideal travelling companion. 

The problem was Harry had a bump on the head, for all Zayn knew, he might have a fracture skull. If Harry dozed off, how was he to know if Harry had just fallen asleep or lapsed into a coma? This alarming possibility made him search Harry's face stealthily for signs of immediate collapse- he found none.

But Zayn did discover that in the subdued light; his passenger's to-die-for bone-structure had an almost threatening quality. Doniya's outlandish hypotheses were still fresh in his mind, and Zayn reasoned that this explained the small bubble of anxiety which he sensibly pushed aside- at least he thought it was anxiety that was responsible  for the adrenaline surge that had his body on red alert. 

The idea of of being stuck miles away from medical assistance with an unconscious man had limited appeal for Zayn. No, the meticulous and reserved Mr Styles was going to stay awake whether he likes it or not!