Your Creation • Zarry

2. Suspicious minds

I knew that Zayn certainly wasn't expecting me to pop round his house at three in the morning and to be honest, I wasn't entirely sure what I was even doing going there. I suppose I hadn't fancied going home with anyone from my party, but I didn't want to be alone either.

Zayn had become my go-to comfort person over the last few years. In the beginning days of the band I started to slowly realize that he and I had quite a lot in common. He was a bit weird, like me, and we got on really well. He was rather clever, intelligent, and annoyingly handsome. He and I constantly found ourselves connecting on so many different levels, whether it was just talking about old music like The Beatles and The Rolling Stones, tunes I grew up listening to, or different vintage films, ones with Rock Hudson or old Twilight Zone episodes, different books and Shakespeare plays or just our sense of humor watching stupid videos on the internet. And when I usually found it hard to sleep I'd often bother him in the middle of the night when my brain wouldn't shut off and he and I would stay up late just chatting about the most random stuff.

But things had changed a little bit since last year and that was all because of Perrie, Zayn's girlfriend, who was in a band called Little Mix. She and I got on okay and Zayn claimed that he loved her, so I wanted to be happy for him; however, I had a bad habit of getting somewhat jealous of other people, especially when it came to Zayn, and sharing his attention wasn't exactly my favorite thing in the world.

Since a majority of the other lads had decided on having girlfriends, I also tried the whole girlfriend thing as well with Taylor Swift. I had been talking to her last year and we tried to keep it low profile until the fall rolled around and we went public with it, but the whole relationship was anything but normal. It was so publicized and I just felt like she wanted so much more from me than I could give, and I just didn't feel whatever it was that people in relationships were supposed to feel. Nothing about our time together ever felt truly organic and although I did like her, there was something missing and I'm pretty sure she hated me now.

The car pulled up to Zayn's house in London and I took my time to inspect the surroundings before I exited. I knew that Perrie wouldn't be there because Little Mix was on their DNA tour, which meant Zayn would be alone, but still it wasn't uncommon for paparazzi to be literally parked outside our houses sometimes and we were all a little bit paranoid. When it seemed as though no one was around, I thanked my driver before getting out of the car.

I walked briskly up to the back of the house and of course the door was locked, but fortunately I had a spare key to his house on my key ring because it's the sort of thing we did. I opened the door and walked inside, nearly tripping over a pair of shoes in the walkway. The back foyer was warm and the air inside smelt like a combination of weed and incense. Was it dragon's blood, perhaps? I tried to guess the scent as I shuffled slowly down the hall and into the main living room.

Zayn was laying there passed out on his couch with the lights dim while Boyz II Men played softly in the background. He was wearing a white Bob Marley t-shirt and grey sweatpants, looking so peaceful and angelic and I couldn't help but smile at him.

I quietly took off my shoes and tiptoed toward him. I gazed at him, noting that Zayn really had such a perfectly sculpted face. It was almost like he was directly descended from some golden God the way that it was chiseled and constructed like some piece of art, like a sculpture. He was the best looking guy you will ever see and maybe I was just drunk, but I couldn't stop staring. The level of overall attractiveness that Zayn possessed was just bloody unfair.

He was such a quiet sleeper as well; he hardly made a sound and then there was me, the obnoxious snorer. Apparently I sounded something like a dying elephant, according to Zayn. Part of me didn't want to disturb him, but there was another part of me that was torn between wanting to draw a penis on his forehead and another, much larger part, that wanted to just jump on top of him obnoxiously.

However, I didn't do any of those things. Instead I grabbed his laptop and put on "Suspicious Minds" by Elvis Presley. I sat down on his coffee table beside the sofa and began singing, using his half empty bottle of water as a microphone.

"We're caught in a trap. I can't walk out, because I love you too much baby. Why can't you see what you're doing to me? When you don't believe a word I say. We can't go on together with suspicious minds..."

I watched as Zayn's eyes fluttered open and he looked over at me. I had expected him to freak out, since I basically broke into his house, but he didn't. He just half smiled sleepily, yet his heavy eyes were laced with confusion.

"Harry? What the fuck are you doing here?" he asked in his signature Bradford accent.

I turned the volume down on his laptop once I got his attention and grinned. I actually wasn't sure how to answer the question so I just made something up quickly.

"I came to collect my birthday present."

Zayn snorted with laughter and sat propped up on his elbows. Was it just me being intoxicated or were his eyes kind of sparkling when he looked at me? Were his pupils dilated? Then I started thinking about how the twinkling lights reflecting in his pupils reminded me of the way the sunlight danced on the top of the ocean mid day but why was I even thinking about this?

"What time is it? And how drunk are you?" Zayn asked, sitting all the way up with his back against the couch cushions.

He propped his feet up next to me on the coffee table, folded arms behind his head.

"Half past three, I think? I'm drunk as hell, not gonna lie."

I found myself unintentionally fixating on his eyes again. I swore I felt my skin prickle and grow warmer when he met my gaze. It seemed like an eternity, although it was probably just a few seconds.

Zayn cleared his throat and got up off the couch abruptly.

"Alright you maniac, I'll get you some tea, yeah?"