Scars And a Cup of Coffee | Zarry [complete]

Chapter 14: Harry

Scars And a Cup of Coffee

Harry sauntered out of the bathroom, his mouth minty and fresh, all remnants of his lost meal gone. Zayn patted the couch beside him, and he obliged plopping down in the seat. He rested his head on Zayn's shoulder, the soldier in turn resting his head on the top of Harry's.

"How do you feel?" Zayn asked, playing with Harry's fingers and it felt good, the little touches lovely and minute.

Harry groaned, his face was sore- most of it was numb because Zayn treated it immediately- but what was mostly got to him was that life seemed to be on fast forward. Maybe he was just slow? He preferred to think that maybe it was just the world carrying on without him.

He decided to not think, because thinking hurt, and Harry was already hurting enough without it. "Cold." He grumbled into the black cloth that covered Zayn's arm.

"Okay," Zayn kissed his forehead. "I'll be right back."

Zayn left, his footsteps traveling through the flat and bouncing off the walls. Harry heard the rummaging echo through the air, but when Zayn returned he held his coat and various other things that he didn't have the power to make sense of. He kneeled in front of him, his strong hands putting fuzzy socks on Harry's ice cold feet, a coat around his shoulders that smelled strongly of Zayn's cigarette smoke and mint. Harry recognized the big jacket as his soldier's, and the feeling of safety increased, chasing all the cold away.

Zayn pulled a beanie on his head before he carried him to the kitchen, Harry bundled up nice and warm enjoying the feeling of being treated nicely. Harry curled in on himself as Zayn scurried around the kitchen, it was almost as if he was in his own home,  casually pulling out ingredients from the cabinets. Harry watched with tired eyes that Zayn put a chocolate bar into a pan.

Harry wondered what he was making but couldn't care less as he noticed the muscles that rippled under his shirt as he moved around. Zayn was fascinating. His movements were precise, all attached with a gentle aura and caring eyes. Harry could smell the melting chocolate, adoring the way it made his mouth water, his tongue yearning for a taste. Harry smiled watched as his saviour maneuvered through his kitchen like he belonged.

He did.

Harry locked his fingers together in front of his shins, resting his chin of his knees.

Zayn belonged.

He was doing something that involved peanut butter, and Harry's stomach groaned. He didn't want to eat, but he felt empty. Tired, empty, and burnt out. Everything was out of place, his mind was still swirling, Nick was still out there, everything hurt, but Zayn? Zayn was here making him alright,  so maybe not everything was in whack. Maybe there was something on track.

Zayn helped.

He came over, performing a great balancing act as he held Harry's favorite chipped mug and plate filled with little treats. Harry grabbed the warm cup and sipped, it was just the right temperature that it didn't burn but just enough heat to make him feel it on the way down. It was thick, chocolatey goodness and it settled in his stomach with a pleasing feeling. Zayn snatched one of the treats, which was just crackers with peanut butter, it being devoured into the cavern that was his mouth. It was simple, and perfect.

Zayn was good, felt good.

Harry nibbled on a cracker, enjoying the mixture of salty and sweet. He was just enjoying the silence, and his hot chocolate, and Zayn. He was just appreciating the raven haired man's presence, it was wonderful and he craved it. Harry swallowed the last of his biscuit and final drop of chocolate.

Zayn picked him up again, taking Harry to his room. There they just laid down on the bed, their faces lined up perfectly and they just stared into the other's eyes. Zayn's hand was on his waist, Harry's was on his shoulder. Harry breathed, a simple task that suddenly seemed so hard.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

Harry traced Zayn's lips with his thumb. Zayn rubbed circles into his wrist. He leaned forward, resting his forehead on Zayn's. Zayn kissed his nose, chaste and sweet.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

Harry allowed his eyes to flutter, leaning in even further so that their lips were barely making contact.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

Zayn filled the space, kissing Harry. It was small, unsure at first, almost as if Zayn was thinking not entirely believing of what he just did. Harry didn't want him to think, he wanted him to feel. His hand made its way to the nape of his neck, pulling Zayn impossibly closer. Their chests were touching, each contact thrummed with energy pouring into Harry like a drug. An addictive life-giving drug. He groaned as Zayn squeezed his waist, fingers digging into his skin,  it was as if Zayn was confirming Harry was there, something tangible that he could touch; the way his lips moved was with purpose, Harry could feel all the emotion Zayn was trying to show through actions.

Harry didn't realize Zayn now hovered over him, the protective way his back hunched over Harry was to show that he wouldn't let anyone hurt him again, he would stand between him and harm. They parted, breaths intertwining as they struggled to catch them. Their stares unwavering, something passed between them.

It was a promise.

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-Mitchi