Dark Matter (a Harry Styles fanfic)

A Lapse of Judgement

Zayn turned to me, an odd look on his face. "That was weird, right?" He inquired.

"Who fücking knows." I shrugged, taking Zayn's hand into mine and tugging him behind me. "All I know is I'm starved." I grinned at him over my shoulder, suddenly overwhelmed with an appetite I was sure I would never be able to curb.

*

After a long day of shopping with Danielle and Eleanor on Avenue des Champs-Elysées, Zayn told me to meet him on the rooftop of Le Burgundy Paris and that he had a surprise for me. Before making my way there, I had taken a little detour to Harry's room in order to confirm his silence on the matter of Le Cab. After a few minutes of pounding on his door, Niall who was making his way towards his and Liam's room told me that Harry and Louis had absconded to the streets of Paris in search for the perfect baguette. When I asked why they would ever do such a thing, Niall told me in not so many words that "Harry is a strange bloke" and that "you should know that by now being his sister and all."

Taking the opportunity I had, I swore Niall to secrecy regarding what he had witnessed at Le Cab and went to on merry way towards my destination. Vowing that I would find Harry later, I slipped into the nearest elevator and pushed the silver button reading 'rooftop'. Breezing out from the elevator after a minute or so, a sign above told me that the stairway leading up was just past the steel door on the left.

Sweeping my wild blonde hair to one side, I pried open the heavy door and began to ascend the concrete steps, the howling of the wind audible even from where I was. Prying open a second steel door at the top of the stairs, a gust of wind instantly whipped my hair around my face. Pushing my hair from my eyes, I descended onto the rooftop, a coy smile finding my lips when I was met with the sight of Zayn. Patiently sitting at an intricately laid dining table, Zayn's eyes were trained on the horizon. When the heavy steel door slammed shut behind me, his dark head turned my way.

"Hello." I said, my smile growing wider. I had been so wrong to doubt him. He had done nothing but try to make amends for the past, had done nothing but try to make me happy.

Zayn got to his feet as I began to walk over to him, watching as I timidly observed his efforts. A traditional red and white checkered tablecloth was draped over the circular dining table, two plates of steaming spaghetti and a basket of fresh buns sitting atop of it. The flame of the tall candle placed in the middle of the table flickered dangerously in the breeze.

"You look nice." Zayn observed.

I appraised Zayn playfully in return. He was wearing a dark grey suit and a fitted black dress shirt beneath his jacket. If I didn't know it already, I would never expect that beneath his clothes was an intricate display of tattoos.

"Thank you." I whispered, happy that Zayn liked the lavender coloured sun dress I had purchased earlier that day. The colour brought out hints of gold and olive in my skin, achieved from spending the past few days in French sun. "This is beautiful Zayn, really." I told him in earnest.

And with that Zayn made his way over to the other side of the table, chivalrously pulling out my chair so that I could sit. "What a gentlemen." I cooed as Zayn tucked my chair in behind me, striding back to his own seat. Sitting down, he roughly began to unravel his napkin, placing it across his lap. Averting my eyes, he picked up his fork and skewered one of the steaming meatballs with it.

Perhaps he was tired, I reasoned. All five of the boys had been touring basically non-stop for two years, so it was understandable that at times that what they needed was a bit of peace and quiet from all the screaming fans. Picking up my fork as well, I shoved a large wad of spaghetti into my mouth. Glancing up from my dinner, I saw that Zayn was watching me chew, his eyes studying my face.