Miracle | Zarry Christmas AU [COMPLETE]

EIGHT

"How do you have this whole thing planned out so quickly?" Harry questions, amazed. He's sitting in the passenger seat of Zayn's car, and he's staring at Zayn in awe.

"I don't know. I just know what you like, I guess," Zayn smiles. When he looks away from the road and at Harry for a second, his gaze is fond, and Harry stares down at his hands, shy. 

"I guess you do have that advantage...Ooooh," Harry gasps out as Zayn slows the car to a stop. He's parked outside an ice cream shop, Harry's favorite one, to be exact. "We're getting ice cream in the middle of December?"

"Is there ever a wrong time for ice cream?" Zayn responds.

Harry lets himself laugh. "Yeah, I guess you're right." He follows Zayn out of the car and takes his hand when Zayn offers it. Surprising him, Harry initiates their fingers interlocking, and it makes Zayn smile.

Harry hums, browsing the ice cream flavors. There are so many options and so many toppings, and he's very, very excited about it.

"Why are you pretending like you're going to get something different than strawberry with white chocolate chips?" 

Harry wrinkles his nose. "Maybe I will!"

"No, you won't."

Harry sticks his tongue out at him. It feels just like it did when they first started dating. It feels soft, pure, just like having crushes all over again.

"Make a decision?" Zayn questions when Harry finally makes his way back over to him.

"Strawberry with white chocolate chips," he mumbles out sheepishly.

"Thought so." Zayn is grinning, and Harry rolls his eyes. Zayn puts an arm around Harry's waist, kisses his temple. The thoughtless affection makes Harry blush, but he nuzzles closer. Zayn pays their ice cream cones, Zayn having ordered blue moon, and they walk out of the ice cream shop hand-in-hand. Harry is humming to himself as he eats his ice cream, and he gasps when they walk past an ice skating rink.

"Can we?" Harry pleads, pointing at the rink.

Zayn could never say no to him. "Sure, H." They finish their ice cream cones, still standing hand-in-hand, and then they get their ice skates and stumble their way onto the ice. "Slow down, Harry," Zayn laughs, trying desperately to use his own balance to keep Harry from falling. Neither of them are particularly good at ice skating, and they sort of shuffle around the outside of the rink, still holding hands. They're giggling like five year olds, kissing sweetly when the smiles on the other person's face make them feel giddy. Zayn feels like he's never been more in love.

"I think my feet are gonna fall off," Harry laughs as they exit the rink. They nudge their skates off their feet and continue walking around the park, not even needing words. "Zayn," Harry calls.

Zayn turns. "Hmmm?" He's caught off guard by a snowball to the chest. "Harry!"

Harry is laughing, and he runs off through the snow. Zayn bursts into laughter, chasing after him, and manages to hit Harry in the square center of his back. Harry laughs, too, and tackles Zayn into the snow. Some gets into his shirt, and he groans, displeased.

"You win," he has to laugh. There's ice in Harry's hair, and he's giggling, his dimples in his cheeks. His face looks so soft, so lovely, God, Zayn loves him. "Can I kiss you?" he whispers.

"Not yet," Harry replies. Zayn doesn't push him on it, doesn't even groan, he just nods and lays back in the snow. Harry rolls off of Zayn's chest, lays back in the snow beside him. "Make a snow angel with me."

Zayn complies, immediately, making a snow angel next to Harry. He has to laugh at himself, because this is never something he thought he'd see himself doing without Oliver making him. 

Harry shuts his eyes. It's snowing lightly, and he can feel it dusting his face. He's smiling -- he's absolutely freezing, and he can't feel his fingertips, but he's with one of the people he loves most in the world, and he couldn't be happier.

"I love you so much, Zayn," he whispers.

Zayn responds with a pained sound, as if this statement physically pained him. "Please, Harry, can I kiss you? Your cheek, at least, please, Harry, please."

Harry tilts his chin toward Zayn, and Zayn leans over and presses kisses to his face, making the obnoxious, "mwah," sound as he does so. That makes Harry's laugh, which makes Zayn never want to stop kissing his face. Harry pulls back a little to see that Zayn is smiling, his nose scrunched up, and Harry kisses the end of it, then his eye crinkles, and lastly, his mouth. Zayn hums into the kiss -- he feels like he should be tired of kissing him, like it should get old, but it doesn't. It never does. When the kiss is broken, Zayn just leans his forehead against Harry's.

"I'm sorry," Harry whispers.

"What for?"

"For our splitting up --"

"No," Zayn interrupts. "No. It was in the past, love. Let's let it go, H. Just be. Be here with me."

Harry lets out a deep breath. It is so hard to let go of something he's been blaming himself for for so long. "Okay," he whispers. "I'll let it go." He wraps his arms around Zayn, and Zayn lets out a low laugh, holds him closer. "I'll trade it for you."