The Beautiful Escape [ZARRY]

20

"Hush, darling or they'll hear you."

Zayn saw that Harry was looking well pleased with himself- and why not? His anger escalated rapidly as Harry calmly began to shrug on his shirt as if nothing had happened. The man had the balls to stand there looking as if butter wouldn't melt in his mouth, when... Zayn's train of thought skittered to an abrupt full stop- it had been a bad mistake to think mouth; he could still feel the tingling area on his neck where his lips had been moments before. 

"Let them!"

Harry directed a mildly irritated glance in his direction. 

"I don't know what you're playing at..."

"Sure you do; you're not that stupid.'

Zayn's eyes narrowed. "Let's pretend for the sake of argument that I am," Zayn suggested sweetly.

"I think I can just about make that giant leap. They were highly reluctant to discharge me without assurances I have someone responsible to take care of me. Whilst I could have just walked out of here, it seemed less stressful all round if I was married." The longer he was here, the more it was only a matter of time before the local Press showed up... in his experience these things snowballed pretty fast. 

"And you thought of me. Naturally I'm deeply flattered," Zayn spat sarcastically. "Why on earth did I have to be a nurse?" he wailed.

"I thought that was a nice touch," Harry agreed complacently. "If the doc had been on the ball he'd have realised you're not old enough to be experienced."

"You're mad... quite mad!" Zayn announced with conviction.

"You're not a nurse, then?"

"Of course I'm not a nurse!"

"Just when your father said you were a fine nurse I thought..."

"I've got siblings- I can stick on a plaster. I'm not Florence Nightingale...!"

"True. Nobody with an ounce of caring in their body could stand there watching me struggle like this." He stood there, one arm inserted in his shirt, wondering what to do next.

"If that was a hint, you're really pushing it!" Zayn growled. "What if someone asks me to do something... nursey?"he worried.

"Is that likely?" Harry drawled, managing to project the distinct impression he found Zayn's complaints slightly hysterical. 

It occurred to Zayn that they were drifting away from the real cause of his simmering anger. " Don't try and change the subject." he growled.

One slant dark brow quirked. "Which was...?"

"I'm not your husband!"

'This is true," he conceded with an expression that suggested he was mightily relieved about this. "I didn't think you'd mind- its not like I'm actually asking you to marry me or anything drastic."

"First of all, I have been engaged in the past, its just that I don't believe in marriages anymore. Second of all, I am not into your kinds, okay?"

"Congratulations then," Harry drawled again, looking amused.

Zayn's cheeks were burning with humiliation as he discovered a major flaw in Harry's manipulations. "What were you going to do if I'd driven straight off?"

"I knew you wouldn't do that," he stated confidently. 

"How could you possibly...?"

"You'd be eaten up by guilt if you did. You're deeply into doing the right thing." He made it sound like a flaw in his character. "Be a sport, Zayn," he urged.

"I'm not lying for you."

Harry sighed. "Just don't say you're not, that's all I'm asking and then you'll never see me again."

Zayn's shoulders slumped in defeat. "I must be mad..."

A wolfish grin split Harry's lean face. "Good boy," he approved.

Further comments were made impossible by the arrival of the nurse who'd directed Zayn here originally.

"I've come to suture your head wound," the young man explained.

Zayn took the opportunity to excuse himself. "I'll wait outside." Halfway through the curtain, he paused. "Are you going to give him a local anaesthetic?" he asked the young nurse.

The young nurse looked confused. "Well yes," he admitted.

"Pity!" Zayn declared maliciously.

The sound of husky laughter followed him down the corridor.