Your Creation • Zarry

46. Stockholm Syndrome

November 2013

I think my favorite country in the world is Japan. I love everything about it; the culture, the food, the fashion, the people. There was something about the energy in Japan that excited me and made me want to make all my experiences traveling there as memorable as possible.

It had been a month since Zayn and I had said those three words to each other, the words that we had dared not speak before and it changed everything. I felt a new sense of refreshment in my mind and in my spirit, like everything we were doing was just temporary, like waltzing through a dream of different faces and places, knowing that the destination meant for Zayn and I existed somewhere far away from where we were, but we just had to wait for it.

Zayn had surprised me with some reading material on the plane ride to Australia a month ago. He stumbled upon this book series by Richard Rider during the weeks that we weren't speaking and handed me the first of the trilogy called "Stockholm Syndrome" and when I asked him why he thought I'd like it, he said "just trust me."

To make it brief the book was about a criminal named Lindsay who fell in love with Pip, a young teenage boy, who he kept hostage. The characters could have been me and Zayn in some alternate universe and it felt like I was in some fan fiction, a tormented but still kind of romantic gay erotica and yes I did in fact have a wank in the loo on the airplane while reading it.

I also felt inspired.

It was our last night in Chiba after our show and the boys and I had been sat round Julian, one of our writer's, hotel rooms listening to our almost finished album that was coming out later that month, "Midnight Memories." I kept glancing over at Zayn, who was aware that two of those tracks were written about him, and he had that knowing twinkle in his eye when we got to "Something Great." That was when I realized that Zayn was my songwriting muse.

As I was walking back to my hotel room, Zayn grabbed hold of my arm and whispered close to me. "See you in 10 minutes yeah?"

The lads pretended not to hear us and walked past but not without Louis and Liam giving me a playful shove.

"Make it 25."

After I hopped out of the shower I found myself staring down at the bathroom sink where laid a pair of fishnets, nail polish and some black eyeliner, courtesy of Lou. She had absolutely no idea that I borrowed these items and she didn't have to know either. Tonight I wanted to play.

As I sat on the toilet in a pair of black underwear, fishnets and eyeliner drawn on my inner lids, I was nearly finished with painting my last nail neon pink and thinking about what Zayn was going to say when he saw me like that. When I stood up and looked at myself in the mirror I wasn't sure if it was Pip Valentine from "Stockholm Syndrome" that was staring back at me or if it was Harry Edward Styles.

But I felt excited.

That knock on the door came next and I jumped in my skin for a moment before sauntering toward the door. Zayn stood there in his black t-shirt and black jeans, Dr. Martens and messy hair, chocolate eyes with a speckle of gold and that freckle, eying me up and down. Then he bit his bottom lip.

"What do you want?" I snapped, the playfulness dancing in my eyes.

"Can I come in?"

"No, you can't."

I knew exactly what I was doing and so did he.

"Why not?" Zayn responded, leaning in closer to me.

I took a step back.

"I don't like you."

"You don't like me, huh?"