Everyone spends their last day differently: some of them do the things they always wanted to do, others spend it unknowing, unaware of the fact that it might be their last. If I was anything, I was aware. Of the grass that brushed against my legs, the sun that warmed my eyelids, and the hand holding mine. But above all, I was aware of the fact that I was going to live. In the exact sense of the word. My heart would still be beating, my lungs would still be working, and I would otherwise be functioning just fine. There was so much more to living, though. More than the blood running through your veins and the oxygen filling up your lungs. And I felt like whatever that was, would soon come to an end.
It wasn’t really a choice we made, it just happened that way. We just ended up lying in the meadow, like we did sometimes. Tomorrow would be the grand finale, what we had been working up to for the past few weeks. Everything had been prepared and all that was left to do now was wait.
I blinked open my eyes when I felt the absence of heat, seeing dark clouds roll over our heads. It looked like a typical summer storm, and for the moment I watched them, trying to find shapes in the varying shades of grey. A harsh breeze blew over us, making me shiver. Zayn squeezed my hand, which I took as an invitation to cuddle up to him, placing my head on his chest. The thing about him was, he was always running hot. Like a personal blanket. He wrapped his arms around me, hugging me so close that it resulted in me lying on top of him, my nose digging in his chest.
‘’Zayn, I’m going to break a rib,’’ I spoke, my voice muffled. His chuckle vibrated through me before he let me go, his arms falling to the side. Placing my hands on either side of him, I pushed myself up and looked down at him as I straddled his hips. The atmosphere quickly changed from playful to something more serious, like a thick fog seeping in through the openings of a forest.
I gasped softly when a raindrop fell on my shoulder, the cold contrasting strongly with the hot and stuffy summer air. Zayn’s eyes flitted towards the dark sky, his eyebrows knitting together to form a frown.
‘’We should go inside, it’s going to rain,’’ he said, just as more droplets started to fall. I refused to move, leaning forward and placing my arms on either side of him to cage him in.
‘’Hmm, you don’t say?’’ I murmured, grinning when he rolled his eyes and gingerly pushed at me. He sighed heavily after his unfruitful efforts.
‘’Harry, come on.’’ I would say he sounded annoyed, but I could hear a hint of amusement there. The smile tugging at his lips also proved my suspicions to be right. The drops were becoming more frequent, my white tank top becoming more wet by the second. Since his plan of pushing me off or convincing me wasn’t working, Zayn tried something different. My leg almost jerked in surprise when his hand shot to my neck, pulling me down and slamming his lips against mine. The rain continued to patter on steadily now as he rolled us over and pressed me down into the grass. Kissing him was something I would never grow tired of, that I already knew. The soft pressure of our usual kisses replaced by something more urgent, like we were trying to make up for lost time, or the time we wouldn’t have.
When his tongue brushed against my lips, I let him in, like I let him into every part of me. Automatically and with no regrets. He was fire personified, when good and bad come together to form something all-consuming and utterly beautiful. If you told me the rain had stopped, I would have believed you. If you told me time no longer existed and the universe had manifested within one person, I would have believed you.
‘’We’re soaking wet,’’ Zayn mumbled against my lips, leaning back to brush away the wet curls that were sticking to my face. I was momentarily stunned. Rendered useless by the sudden realisation of what was hovering above me, what it meant to me. But I couldn’t put it into words, couldn’t risk it for fear or losing it.
So I stayed silent when Zayn got up and offered me his hand. We hastily retreated to the mansion, slamming the door shut and spraying droplets everywhere as we hurried up the stairs. Luckily, we found some old tattered towels in the bathroom. It felt like an eternity spent in there, ruffling each other’s hair up, sharing short kisses and occasionally longer ones that ended with us both breathless, as if we had run a few miles. Easy, was what is was. To forget about what was waiting for us, what would be waiting for me once this all was over. What would be left after Friday? Would I have to pick up the pieces again?
Perhaps dwelling on that was a bad idea, so I allowed it to sink, fall away and out of reach of my mind. For now, I was going to focus on Zayn – how alive he seemed, how there was warmth in every part of him and how it showed through his eyes. God, his eyes. They were something I could look at, stare at, for a long time. Like appreciating your favourite painting. Once in a while you would look at them just to look, remind yourself of the details so you could commit them to memory and visit them in your head late at night when it felt like the fear of not knowing could crush you.
‘’What are you looking at?’’ Zayn asked playfully, tugging at the towel around my neck.
‘’You,’’ I answered simply. Somehow it seemed like the correct answer to the wrong question. It wasn’t just ‘at’. There was no looking at Zayn. Once you got to know him better, got familiar with his expressions and body language, it seemed increasingly difficult to not read him like a book. It happened accidentally, like how you learn a language if you moved abroad for a while. Day after day it becomes easier to understand until you find you’re somewhat fluent. There was nothing you did, it just happened. So whenever I found my eyes drawn to Zayn, it felt like I knew too much to just see the surface. Because when you get to know a person, their exterior melts like snow under the sun. Until all you could see was the grass and flowers underneath or the holes they dug like they were trying to escape somewhere.
‘’Thank you for looking,’’ he whispered, leaning forward to rest his head on my shoulder. That was what Zayn did: say something that fit the situation perfectly, but still meant something completely different. And he knew I understood, there could be no other way. So when I whispered back to him, it didn’t surprise me that he wasn’t confused by my answer.
‘’I’ll always look for you.’’
That was some more Zarry for you :). I hope you enjoyed it! The next chapter is going to be it.. what do you think is going to happen? You'll find out on Wednesday!
Until then xxx <3
