Zarry One Shots by dattumblrgal

Domestic/Make-up fic - Future Canon AU

 Sun has already started peeking out and illuminating the sky in soft shades of orange and pink when Zayn wakes up at 5AM with a gasp, waking up from a nightmare. His breathing slows down after a few seconds, after he looks at his phone and settles himself into reality. The open curtains present him with a sight of his backyard, all the greenery bathed in the warmth of sunrise. Knowing he won't be able to fall asleep again, he gets up and pulls on a pair of sweatpants that were lying on the floor. The other side of his bed is cold and empty anyways, so putting on a pair of stray Converse at 5AM before going outside doesn't feel like running away because it isn't.

Stitch has been woken up by all the commotion and is now lazily following Zayn downstairs, still so sleepy he doesn't even bark or realize when they step outside instead of into the kitchen where the food is. He finds a squeaky toy by the sliding door and grabs it, leaving it in his mouth as he follows Zayn further into the garden where the plants are.

Zayn always gets weird looks from people when he tells them that he likes to garden. It's like what? Pop stars can't tend to their own gardens? Those people must've never tried it because if they did, they would know how fucking amazing it is. Not only seeing something grow out of a single little seed that was put into ground, something that you can actually eat. It's also the feel of working with ground and just taking that quiet time to think, to stay off the grid for a few hours and be enveloped by nature but in a different way than going on a hike and exploring a forest.

There are a few tools in a box right next to the tomatoes but he doesn't take any of them. Instead he just sits on the ground and idly breaks off dry leaves.

"Morning, tomatoes. Did you have a good night?"

If some people think that gardening is silly then what is talking to plants? In reality, it's actually quite cool. It's just like talking to your dog – they can't talk back, they won't expose your secrets and all they can give in return is a little love. The only difference is that a dog licks your face and tomato plant gives you... well, tomatoes.

It's part of the therapeutic aspect of gardening. It doesn't include just the wonderful feeling of damp ground between your fingers or seeing your plants stand tall and green, it's also the peace. Some people sing while gardening, some listen to music and some talk to their plants. No, they're not crazy and they're also not witches.

"Well, I didn't," Zayn says after the tomatoes obviously don't respond. Maybe they did. In their own way. With leaves swishing in the wind... or whatever, Zayn's not high enough for this kind of thinking. Or maybe he'll start believing it once he's eighty and no one's taking him seriously anyways.

"I had like a... nightmare, sort of? It wasn't like those types where you can't, I don't know, reach something so you just keep running and running with actually getting further away from whatever you wanted to reach. But it was so real, so fucking vivid that I almost woke up to a heart attack. It was like my normal life but this... I can't even really remember what it was exactly but this terrible dread and feeling of loneliness kept following me around.

"And then the dream showed like almost an exact memory of our last fight but it ended differently? We didn't walk away from each other. Not even just out of anger or frustration, so definitely not for good like I dreamt we did. Even in the dream, I knew that it didn't end like that, that we didn't say those words but for some reason I could literally feel... fucking broken. And that's when I woke up."

Stitch has made his way back to Zayn from where he was playing with the squeaky bone away from the plants. He's leaned his head against Zayn's thigh and he's looking at him with those irresistible puppy eyes.