olivia [zarry]

chapter four| I want you here with me

[Part 1 of 2]

"Harry, I told you to close the door on your way out."

Shit, he's in trouble. He can tell because there Zayn is, standing a few feet away from him with his deep brown eyes unwaveringly staring straight back at Harry as he crosses his arms and fixes him an unimpressed look.

All he can do in response is shoot Zayn a bashful smile as he holds the culprit herself in his arms and hopes for mercy. "I did! She must know a way to get in."

Zayn condescendingly quirks a perfectly shaped eyebrow at that. "Yes, I'm sure she just reached for the doorknob, turned it, and let herself in," he drawls.

"That's not what I meant," Harry laughs slightly because Zayn's still giving him a flat look, but he can't bring himself to take him seriously when he's looking all soft and artistic. "Oh, come on. You're not seriously mad at me, are you?"

"No, I'm seriously mad at you. That's not a room that I want her to be in."

Harry nods, pursing his lips out in consideration. "Alright," he says slowly, taking a step closer to Zayn. "I can understand that, but are you still mad if I do this?" He asks, leaning down to plant a soft kiss on Zayn's jaw. It twitches slightly, and his stubble scrapes against Harry's lips, just the way he likes it.

But Zayn shrugs, unmoved, "Yeah, 'm still pretty upset," so Harry knows that he has to try harder.

He hums. "How about if I do this?" He angles his head just right and moves to Zayn's lips then, pressing down on them for a second, basking in their chapped glory for just long enough before pulling away to meet his eyes with a devilish smile.

"Maybe a little less now," Zayn mumbles nonchalantly, but Harry can feel him loosening up, so he goes for it, and he deepens the kiss, placing his hand on Zayn's cheek as he draws him in closer and slowly moves his lips against his. It's unrushed at first, the kiss, but soon he's licking his way into Zayn's mouth, and he's sure that Zayn doesn't mean to, but he moans when Harry nips at his lower lip. He pulls at the hair at the nape of Harry's neck in retaliation and flips them so Harry's up against the wall, legs entwined, their beating hearts aligned. "Okay, maybe you're getting there," Zayn tells him a bit breathlessly. His eyes are full blown and darker than before now, and Harry can't seem to recall what they were even talking about.

"Oh yeah?" He whispers against Zayn's intoxicating lips as he steals a few more kisses. "What about-"

Zayn seems to remember though, because he backs away almost as soon as Harry presses his lips to his collarbone. "Wait, no. Harry! Be serious. I'm really upset," he says, whacking his arm but chuckling. "I've told you a million times, babe. I don't want her-"

"Do I have something on my face?"

Harry suddenly snaps back to reality. Shit. He blinks. They're still out to brunch. They're still out to brunch, and that was Zayn's real voice just then, dragging him out of his laughable thoughts of owning a house together with a cat that keeps getting into Zayn's art studio. Man, he's so ridiculous sometimes he wants to hit himself. "I'm sorry, what?"

A small smirk is pulling at the corner of Zayn's pretty pink lips as he repeats, "You're staring. Do I have something on my face?"

"Oh." Harry clasps his hands together to keep from facepalming and/or sloshing himself. "No, sorry. I'm just- you're a really animated speaker, you know? It's hard not to give you my full attention, especially when you're talking about things like this, things that you love." Wait, he didn't mean to say that, or at least not in the way that he just said it. Jesus, Harry. Just outright tell him, why don't you?