the pool in his backyard ➳ zarry

we were shotgun lovers

Harry didn't know what was wrong or right, he didn't know how to act around Zayn, he didn't even know who Zayn was anymore.

Harry was so used to having Zayn to himself. Zayn was his. Zayn was his when he needed someone to talk to, Zayn was his when his Mum wasn't home and he didn't feel like being alone, Zayn was his when he wanted to take a bike ride through their familiar suburbs, Zayn had always been Harry's.

But now, Harry had to share Zayn. And it's not like Harry having to share Zayn with Liam, Louis and Niall.

Harry has to share Zayn with someone who likes Zayn as much as he does. And maybe that's why he had such a horrible feeling in his stomach, maybe that's why Harry can barely breathe when Zayn's around, maybe that's what Harry hasn't been realizing this whole time.

Harry couldn't take it, the anxiety in his stomach was killing him as he stepped out of the shower and gradually dried his body.

He could hear Zayn humming in their bedroom and god, Harry hadn't looked Zayn in the eyes since he had told him earlier that he was dating Perrie.

Harry's stomach hurt.

After brushing his teeth and scrubbing his face, Harry stepped into his pyjamas. Grey boxers and a white t-shirt. He wanted the night to be over.

Taking a deep breath, he turned the doorknob and stepped out, forcing a smile to greet Zayn.

When he opened the door, Zayn didn't even notice as he was stood up on the bed, plastering the green glow in the dark stickers onto the flat ceiling.

The pins and needles came rushing back. This is exactly what Harry needed.

"What are you doing?" Harry questioned, holding back a real smile.

Zayn turned around and looked at Harry for a moment, his eyes warm and welcoming. "I just thought we should finish this once and for all, huh?"

Harry scoffed, walking over to their bed and sitting down on his side. "I didn't think you remembered we still had those,"

"I did," Zayn's voice got quieter. "You weren't in the best mood today so I decided to put these up for you,"

Sighing, Harry looked up at the planets on the ceiling.

Pins and needles.

"Uh," Harry chuckled softly. "Thanks... I guess,"

Sticking the last little planet to the ceiling, Zayn stepped off the bed and switched the lights off.

"It's kind of pretty, huh?"

Above their bed, the old stickers weakly shone the basic glow in the dark green colour, but somehow looked so beautiful.

Maybe it was the history behind them.

"Kind of pretty," Harry smiled, laying back against his pillow and folding his arms over his chest.

Zayn plopped down on the spot beside him, on his back as well.

The two laid there, quiet for a minute basking underneath the dull lit stickers.

Harry's pins and needles picked up quite a bit, overlapping the awful anxiety that was still glued to his stomach.

Laying there, Harry wondered if the feeling would ever go away. Harry wondered if he could do something, anything to stop feeling this.

Things were so different, so easy when he hadn't noticed the feeling at all.

"Hey," Zayn finally whispered.

Harry closed his eyes at the sound of Zayn's voice. "Hey," he repeated gently.

"How do you feel right now?" he murmured, turning his head so he could see Harry.

Harry hummed in response.

"Hm?" Zayn imitated Harry, simply beaming at him.

Harry couldn't even see Zayn.

"That's all you have to say?" Zayn said.

"I don't know," Harry exhaled.

Without answering, Zayn took his fingertip up the side of Harry's arm and to his shoulder.

"Don't even think," he said. "Just say what you're feeling,"

From Harry's shoulder, Zayn went straight, across the top of Harry's arm, all the way to the back of his hand and finally making sure to trace every one of Harry's fingers.

Harry laid there, still, feeling absolutely nothing in that moment but Zayn's touch.

He was empty of all emotions, all butterflies, all pins and needles.

It was just him, present. With the heat of Zayn's skin rubbing against his.

Harry wanted nothing more but to stay still forever and constantly feel Zayn's touch.

Just like this.

He couldn't say what he was thinking out loud.

But he was feeling it. He was feeling it stronger than anything he's felt before. Stronger than the anxiety. Stronger than the simple butterflies. Stronger than the punch in the gut.

Harry thought he could explode. His heart was so full, his stomach was so empty. His heart was heaving, his heart was begging for more as if it could hold an endless amount of love.

God, Harry has never used the word love. Love is so deep, love is so pure, love. The word love means so much.

And Harry wasn't ready for the commitment that the word love carried.

All Harry knew was he was here. In this moment. His eyes closed, his cheeks flushed. Zayn's fingertips caressing his arm.

Harry wanted to breathe. He couldn't.

It was always like this with Zayn.

He was feeling everything and nothing. Harry was feeling the entire universe and nothing at all. He didn't even know what to call the feeling.

"It's none of your business," Harry finally whispered, his voice ever so quiet.

"Why is it none of my business?" Zayn questioned, moving closer to Harry, pressing his knee to the side of Harry's thigh, trailing his toe up the side of Harry's calf. "Why?"

Harry sucked in a breath. "Because,"

His heart was pounding, Harry's heart was faster than it was when he was running. Harry felt so out of breath and he was just lying here.

What the hell was happening to him?

Zayn. Zayn with his beautiful eyes, his caramel skin, his pink lips, the tip of his nose, his ears, his chiselled jawline and his body. His heavenly body.

Zayn. The boy he's known forever, the boy who is always with him. The boy who learned everything with him.

That's what was happening to him.

So with a soft sigh, Harry opened his mouth to speak.

"I'm feeling a lot," he said, turning to his side, away from Zayn's touch and exhaling.

In the silence, Harry awaited Zayn's response.

It took Zayn a moment. When Zayn spoke, Harry could feel his smile.

"Me too," Zayn said, pulling the covers over his body.

Harry was still recovering, catching his breath. He was good at hiding his feelings from Zayn.

He wished he wasn't. He wished Zayn could see it all.

So that night, Harry settled on one thing.

He might have a little crush on Zayn.

Just a tiny one.