Art & Ink //Zauren?

•twenty one

It had been the longest week of Zayn's life. He hadn't seen, nor talked to Lauren. He was letting Dean have is his time with her. But tonight, he'd see her.

"A tie? We're going to dinner, not a funeral." Dean came up behind him as he stood in front of the large mirror in his walk in closet.

His fingers roughly undid the tie around his neck as he became frustrated. Ignoring Dean's presence, he swapped his white button up for a black one and tucked the hem into his black slacks. Dean leaned against a rack of clothes dressed similar to Zayn except his dress shirt was white. Zayn shoved his feet into a pair of brown dress shoes before he took another look in the mirror.

"Better?" He asked in a sarcastic tone.

Dean nodded. "Better."

He notices how shaky Zayn was as he straightened out the collar of his shirt. Dean was nervous too but he was way better at hiding it.

"What are you so worried about?"

Zayn whipped around to look at him with his brows drawn together and his eyes big and doubtful.

"She's gonna say no."

"She won't," Dean tried to assure him.

"You don't know that." Zayn pushed past him and strode back into his bedroom. There, he lit a cigarette then exhaled the smoke with a shaky breath.

"You're right, but neither do you."

Zayn envied Dean for being so calm. How could he be calm about something like this?

The time on Dean's watch said it was a few minutes past 8.

"Come. We've got a reservation for 8:30." Dean turned to leave the room.

"Is this what you want?"

The words stopped Dean in his tracks. He slowly turned around and looked at Zayn. The cigarette created a fog in the air and pieces of ashes littered the hardwood floor. He studied Zayn's face for a second.

"If it's what you want."

He took one last drag of his cigarette before he put it out in the ashtray. The scared little boy within Dean began to resurface as Zayn took steps towards him. Out of instinct, he looked down but Zayn placed a finger under his chin and made him look up. Eye contact was an important thing to him.

"That's not what I asked."

"At first, no. I didn't want this. I just wanted to make you happy but Lauren...there's just something about her. I think I want this," Dean said.

"You think?"

"I want this. The three of us."

Brown eyes stared into grey ones. Dean was let down when Zayn didn't press his lips against his own. Instead he backed away, and patted him on the shoulder.

They left the house. Dean drove, giving Zayn time to think in the passenger seat. Within minutes they arrived at some high-end restaurant that Zayn could hardly pronounce the name of. They went inside and a waitress lead them to a secluded table that sat at the back of the restaurant. The lighting was very dim and quiet conversations filled the room. A few eyes follow the two of them as they took a seat.