Induratize [h.s/z.m au]

chapter five

induratize // chapter five

Clark throws herself around in the bed, trying desperately to force herself back to sleep without any avail. She catches Zayn's profile in a flash of lightning. He has the gift to sleep through practically anything, but even this crashing thunderstorm seems to be a lot for him; it's kept Clark up for a solid hour and doesn't seem to be stopping anytime soon. She slips out of bed and creeps towards the kitchen, her fingers tracing the wall and the occasional flash of lightning enough to guide her through the dark hallway.

She's almost through the kitchen when another flicker of light illuminates a figure sitting by the window. "Puta mierda!" Clark hisses, "You scared me!"

It's been an entire week since they kissed. Or Harry kissed her. An entire week of avoiding eye contact and awkward shuffles past each other in the hallway, and the first thing Clark says to him is 'fucking shit'. How appropriate.

She eyes Harry suspiciously from the doorway, trying to calm her heartbeat from the scare. He's sitting in front of the balcony window, a large blanket wrapped around his shoulders.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to," he says quietly, not taking his eyes off the storm outside.

Clark considers her options. She could go back to bed and not sleep and keep pretending Harry doesn't exist, or she can get the fuck over it. She's always been more of the forward type, though, so she takes a step closer. "What're you doing out here?"

Harry doesn't look away from the window. "I'm watching the thunderstorm."

"It's almost three in the morning."

"You're awake," Harry points out. He still doesn't turn around.

Clark stares at Harry's back unblinkingly. "I couldn't sleep."

"And I just like storms."

"Why?"

When Harry finally turns around, his expression is blank, his curls askew and flopping over his forehead, and his eyes are focused, dark and determined. He looks mesmerized. It makes Clark swallow.

"Why do you like them?" Clark repeats softly.

"They're nice."

"How?"

"They're chaotic," he shrugs, averting his gaze back to its original place. "Sort of like...they're reminding the world that not everything is perfect."

There's a sudden clap of thunder, and Clark jumps, unconsciously moving closer to Harry. He must notice the change, because he looks up at her, smiling a little as he pats the empty space beside him. "You can sit by me, you know. I don't bite."

"Maybe I don't want to." She sits down anyways, ignoring his gaze on the side of her face, her eyes now fixated on the gathering water droplets rolling down the glass in front of them.

"Zayn is still asleep?" Harry asks.

"He can sleep through anything."

"Lucky him." Harry raises his eyebrows at Clark's confused expression. "Well he hasn't had to listen to you two fucking. These walls are paper thin, y'know."

"At least we don't have to worry about you." Ignoring the way Harry's eyes are still burning holes in the side of her head, Clark continues before she can think about it. "No more girls, remember?"

Harry's gaze finally, finally flicks away, hiding his expression. The shift in his posture is proof enough that he remembers, though. "Fuck you," Harry murmurs, so low that it can barely be heard over the crashing of thunder.

"No," Clark shoots back, louder, "really, fuck you. You just showed up like you own the place, like it's somehow okay for you to kiss -"

"You're the one who acts like you own the place," Harry cuts in, standing up to his full height, his jaw clenching. He steps closer into Clark's space, voice rising with every word as he stares down at her. "You're the one living in Zayn's apartment, you are the one fucking around with his best friend - "