Daisies • Zarry

12. Aphrodite

Zayn was pretty sure he failed his test on Greek Mythology. He hadn't finished studying because he literally couldn't concentrate after he left Harry's the previous night. Every time his eyes scanned the pages he only found himself thinking about the taste of Harry's lips and the way that they touched like two sunflowers delicately pressed together. He found his brain stuck, stalling, just like a car running while the exhaust clouded every other thought that wasn't related to the softness of Harry's skin or the firm grip of Harry's long fingers. Zayn was tortured with these continuous reflections of that moment when Harry offered to back off if only he had said no, but he didn't.

I couldn't.

It was almost frightening how everything about Harry felt right to Zayn, but when he ran into Elias rounding the courtyard in between classes he was instantly reminded of just how wrong it actually was. An enormous veil of guilt began weighing on Zayn when Elias jogged over to him, smiling with that bright white smile of his, looking so upbeat, so elated to see him and Zayn paused, realizing that he had cheated on the perfect guy.

"Hey babe," Elias greeted him, leaning in for a kiss, which Zayn responded to, but he felt like he didn't even deserve it. "How was class?"

"I think I failed that test."

"Oh no, why? You didn't study?"

"I did...it's just that my mind went completely blank for some reason," Zayn lied.

"I told you you should have let me help you study for it," Elias responded. "But that's okay, it's just one test. You can still bring your grade back up," he added, trying to uplift Zayn with a more hopeful thought.

"Yeah, I guess."

Elias kissed him once more goodbye and they parted, Zayn nearly dragging his feet to his next class. Elias treated him so well. He was always there, always attentive, always so supportive. He did all of these kind, thoughtful things for him out of the blue and he hardly ever asked for anything in return. He was the epitome of that guy that anyone would want to have and yet Zayn just had to go and surrender to Harry instead.

But it was Harry.

Harry, the one who wasn't gay or bisexual but clearly seemed to be enjoying sexual acts that were pretty fucking queer. Harry, the one who used just because to constantly justify his words and actions as if it were enough. Harry, the one who had a girlfriend and continued cheating on her without even batting an eye. Harry, the one person that had this tenacious, all-compassing power over Zayn.

* * * * *

Zayn strolled into Daisies, same time as usual, making eye contact with Harry right away, who had been filling the mason jars with fresh daisies, which is exactly what he had been doing the first time Zayn ever saw him and he'd never forget it. But Harry just lightly smirked at him and said nothing as Zayn walked by and made his way over to his table, where he saw a book already laying on the tabletop along with his cappuccino and almond biscotti. He looked down and noticed that it was "Norwegian Wood," the book Harry had been reading and said he'd let Zayn borrow when he was done.

It looked like he was finished. Zayn glimpsed over at Harry, who's back was turned to him and he took a sharp breath in when he saw the pink waistband of Harry's briefs sticking out from the top of his dark, skinny jeans as he bent over the table.

Fuck. What the hell am I going to do?

Zayn pulled his chair out and noticed then that a white paper napkin was tucked under the cappuccino cup with something written on it. He slowly pulled it out and read something in Harry's handwriting. No literally, that's exactly what it said.