Reaper [Zarry]

death nine

"Harry Styles."

His hand is clammy. He clutches mine tightly as we follow the bright blue eyed woman down the hallway.

He bobs his leg up and down as we wait and wait and wait. Not like I mind, I have plenty of time to kill.

Real funny Zayn.

"Relax babe," I chuckle, placing my hand on his knee. "It's like you've never been to the doctor."

My fingers card through his hair and he hums, eyes closing.

"They're going to prescribe you medicine," I whisper softly. "And then we can go home and I'll make you feel all better."

"Zayn," he mutters, head resting on my shoulder.

The door opens abruptly, a frail looking man with wiry gray hair and wide rimmed glasses smiles at us sweetly and pulls on some latex gloves.

"Hello lads," he chirps. "How are we? Not so great I assume," he laughs as he wheels his stool over to Harry. "Symptoms?"

"Mild headache and stomach pain."

He nods, slipping his stethoscope up under the hem of his shirt.

"Take some deep breaths for me."

They're shallow but he praises him and confirms that his heart is in fact beating.

Harry gives him a dimpled grin and I realize that I must be looking at him with so much fondness it's fucking sappy.

The doctor scribbles down a few things before moving his hand over Harry's belly gently.

"I'm going to apply a bit of pressure in some places, okay? Tell me if anything hurts."

I flinch at that. Something about seeing Harry wince is unsettling. His pain is my pain.

Shared pain.

"Can you keep anything down?"

"Not really," he answers meekly.

"You still have a bit of a fever. Good news is you just have a standard stomach bug. Bad news is that you're quite dehydrated which is why your stomach hurts so much."

"Oh," his face drops. "Zayn kept telling me to drink more water-"

"Came back up, huh? That's perfectly fine. It isn't severe so we don't need to hook you up to tubes or anything, just drink lots of fluids to compensate. However, I need you to do one of those dreaded urine samples."

He groans and my thumb strokes his cheek.

"All you have to do is pee," I laugh. "Doesn't sound too bad."

It's silent as I wait for them, the clock ticking on the wall.

My jaw rests in the palm of my hand and I sigh deeply, realizing how much joy Harry brings me. I feel lost without him, my mind wandering to dark places.

When I'm with him, I forget who I really am.

I just feel human.

I've been burned, cast to hell. The devil has seared my skin, shredded me to bits but he has never melted me like Harry.

Usually I don't feel it. I grit my teeth and block the the hurt.

I never knew real pain anyway.

Pain is seeing someone you care about at their worst; weak and tired and dejected.

Harry always melts me, warms me up instantly like I'm soft wax. It's a burning on the inside, a passion that ignites my bones. Every fiber of my being feels it.

My heart has never liked being cold. It has dusty corners, pumps slow because there's usually no reason for it to race.

He comes back in, small smile on his face and everything is shifting.

Now it's picking up speed, pulse strumming in my neck.

"I'm writing a quick prescription and then you two lovebirds can be on your way."

My angel's fingers lace in mine and I bite back a smile. When the doctor turns his back on us, Harry wetly kisses the crook of my neck.

My skin tingles where his lips were. I press my fingers there, touching the spot, that familiar warmth spreading through me.

I don't want to be cold again. I don't want to lose you. I can't lose you.

We bicker over what to listen to on the radio on the drive back home. That's how I know he's feeling better. I make a quick stop to pick up his prescription and when I get back in the car there's a smirk on his face.

"You changed the station," I shake my head. "Unbelievable."

"Did not," he giggles.

"Mhmm. Then who did?"

He gazes out the window and I tip his chin, fingers curling under his jaw.

"You should look at me when I'm talking to you."

He turns to me, emerald eyes sparkling, lips baby pink, cheeks flushed.

"It was my imaginary friend."

I laugh into a kiss, pulling him over the console and into my lap. This is perfectly normal, right...making out in a parking lot?

He gasps as I bite his bottom lip, his finger pressing down on the mark I made. There's a droplet of blood on the pad of his finger, his lips swollen. When he looks back up at me, his eyes are a deep shade of green.

I'm caught off guard as his hands fist up my shirt, his mouth working at my jaw.

"Harry," I moan.

Every move he makes sends vibrations straight to my cock. The radio is still playing but I can't quite make out the sound. Everything is static noise, my ears ringing as pleasure overtakes me.

The car shakes slightly, the windows fogging up and I fight him for dominance. His breath is hot, fanning across my neck.

I tug at his curls and the bag tips over, the pill bottle rolling across the floorboard.

My eyes close but then I shiver from the cold, the absence of his touch making my heart tremble.

He laughs innocently and I'm climbing into the back of the car, following that irresistible sound, pinning his arms above his head.

"You think you're funny huh?"

"Actually I'm Harry."

Laughter spills from my lips just before they connect with his.

It's fierce and stolen kisses. Rough and rushed and greedy. Filled with so much lust my veins are swimming in it.

I'm fucking clouded in it.

When we stop, there's the sound of our breaths and hushed words through the speakers.

My fingers stroke his scalp. I'm trying to catch my breath but he snatched it from me.

"Feeling better?"

He sits up slowly and I collect him in my arms, rubbing the small of his back.

"Not quite."

"No?"

His words are muffled against my neck and I swear my heart is two seconds from bursting. "I need you to kiss me again."

A/N: ZARRY HAS NO CHILL. YOU BEEN KNEW.