haven ☞ l.s

0.9

+

Harry is nothing if not prepared.

He spends the better part of a day writing down any questions he has for Zayn—before school, during lunch, during plan, as much as he can get away with—and eventually filling up three whole pages with them. Then he goes back through and crosses out the questions that are either too personal, too dumb, or unanswerable. It leaves him with a couple solid talking points, but he still has Louis look it over before they head out the door.

The car ride over to Haven has Harry jittery.  He's staring out the window and jumps when Louis lays his hand over Harry's.

"Don't worry so much," Louis says. "It's just like talking to a friend. I mean, I hope you can be friends anyway, since you're both important to me."

Harry nods stiffly, trying to remember that Eleanor liked him just fine, so Zayn probably will too.

"Is he, like, nice?"

Louis laughs. "Yeah, H, he's nice, or I wouldn't be his friend."

"Right," Harry says, shaking his head. "Sorry, I just. I swear I'm not this bad at meeting new people, but you wouldn't know that because the first time I talked to you, I started going on about sexual preferences, which you never asked about, and when I met Eleanor, I gave her a heart attack, and—yeah."

"Oh, come off it. If you hadn't said what you said when we met, we wouldn't be here right now!"

Harry pouts. "Well, I'd like to think that we would've found our way anyhow."

Louis smiles so hard that his eyes crinkle. He waits until they're at a stop light before leaning over and kissing Harry on the cheek. "Me too, love."

Haven is still empty by the time they get there, not opening to the public until later that night. The sheer fabrics that separate the great room into more manageable sections are pinned up to the wall, making it look impossibly larger. There are a few people roaming around, using sponges and buckets of soapy water to clean the tables and equipment; others replacing the cases on pillows, cleaning the bar, or vacuuming.

If Harry had any doubts about the cleanliness of Haven, they're all gone now.

They spot Zayn easily, fussing over what looks to be some kind of swing. Harry doesn't want to ask.

"Oi!" Louis calls, gaining the attention of much of the cleaning crew. It's a testament to how often Louis is here that none of them bat an eye at him. Zayn stands up from his crouched position, a small smile on his face as he approaches the two of them. "This is Harry."

Up close, Zayn is gorgeous. He's got almost-black hair and a dark beard that suggests power, while his doe-eyes and less than dominant stance do anything but. While Harry observes Zayn, Zayn is doing it right back, making Harry blush under the scrutiny.

"Hello," Harry attempts to smile. "It's nice to meet you."

Zayn hums in nonchalant agreement. "Let me just finish this, then we can talk."

He turns back to the swing without another word. Harry looks at Louis to make sure this is normal, that Zayn doesn't just hate him on first sight. Louis squeezes Harry's hand reassuringly.

They go sit at one of the nearest couches, watching idly as all these people work to clean up the literal orgy that happened here last night. It's certainly not a job you could proudly tell your mother about.

When Zayn is apparently satisfied with the swing, he makes his way over to the couch across them and rests with his arm over the top, giving them both a nod in greeting.