Chapter One | This is Apollo We're Talking About

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"Golden child,
Lion boy;
Tell me what it's like to conquer.

Fearless child,
Broken boy;
Tell me what it's like to burn."

– oh darling, even Rome fell

start

"What time should I be there, did you say?" Zayn asks, eyes quickly darting over to the clock blinking on his microwave as he props his phone up to his cheek with his shoulder while he slices a tomato.

It's nearing lunch time now, and he's got an important call coming in in a bit, but he's still got just a few minutes to spare.

"I didn't," Louis answers on the line, and he sounds tired, though simultaneously blithe, Zayn thinks, "but any time after four is fine, I'd say. We should have everything sorted by then."

"Mkay," Zayn hums. "I actually have a meeting in a mo, but that shouldn't take too long," he hopes, glancing at the clock once more as he resolutely ignores the sound of his best mate loudly groaning out at the revelation.

Zayn can just imagine him pressing his fingertips to his forehead in mock frustration. "But after that, arsehole, I'm completely free for the day, so I'll be there as soon as I can, yeah?"

"Oh, c'mon, lad," Louis is saying though, stretching his words out, "don't tell me that you're actually working today. On a Saturday? Are you mad? And on the day of my house-warming party, no less. 's like I don't even know you anymore."

Zayn snorts, rolling his eyes at that and at the pure dramatics of it all, but a smile still fights to grace his lips. "Yes, yes, I'm working on a Saturday, Lou, and on the day of your party too– it's reprehensible, I know," he humors him, "but my team and I need to finish this new game proposal by next week or we're screwed, so I don't really have much of a choice, mate."

"Yeah, yeah," Louis says, dismissively. "Keep the excuses coming. Can you at least tell me what it's going to be like then? The game, I mean. Because you already know, don't you?"

Zayn chuckles, beginning to dice an onion now. "I do, but that's confidential information, I'm afraid."

Louis huffs, as was expected. "God, you're no fun," he complains. "I thought having a video game designer as a best friend was going to have a lot more perks than this, but I stand corrected. You're still as properly useless to me as ever."

"I'm wounded," Zayn drawls, almost laughing, "truly. Do you want me to bring anything, you idiot?"

"No, just your pretty self would be great," is the reply that he gets. There's a pause. "You are actually coming this time though, right? 'Cause I know you're busy and all these days, and that's quite alright, but ever since you started working your new job, it feels like I never see you anymore."

Zayn smiles, moving on to chopping some garlic. "Maybe you just feel that way because we no longer live together, bro."

"Maybe," Louis allows thoughtfully, "but I only just moved out a week ago, and even before then, it felt like I didn't." He sighs. "I don't know, man. Just make sure you show up, alright? Or I'm coming to get you myself. Remember, I know where you live," he warns softly, so Zayn has to halt what he's doing.

He wipes his hand with a towel before grasping his mobile properly and beaming from ear to ear as he obnoxiously coos into it. "Aw, I miss you too, Lou," he half-teases him, not being able to help himself.

He can practically see Louis scrunching his face up in fake disgust at his words.

"I... did not say that," he grumbles stubbornly, and Zayn laughs, because he didn't have to, really, "but I suppose that I'm glad to hear that, Malik," is his way of confirming it. "I should let you go though. You have that meeting or whatever, and Harold just walked in, and he's bugging me about drinks or summat."

Oh, Won't You Let Me Burn (Won't You Let Us Conquer) [Zarry] [DISCONTINUED]Where stories live. Discover now