Loved You First ! Zarry !

Chapter 2 - Z : Him!

DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental or only for recreational purpose.
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Rainbow Rowell, Eleanor & Park –

"Eleanor was right. She never looked nice. She looked like art, and art wasn't supposed to look nice; it was supposed to make you feel something."

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Z

Green! Green! Green!

I can't stop thinking about the color of his eyes. Especially when it has not been even 24 hours since I was staring at them.

Those eyes always had the draw and I knew about them way before he became the most popular boy in school. I always knew one day everybody would want him and that's why I always wanted to hide him from the upper most layer of school hierarchy.

But clouds can't hide the sun from shinning for too long.

So I settle for drawing his eyes on my sketch book instead of looking at them across the cafeteria. He and I belong to the polar opposite spaces of the high school kingdom. And I feel the divide between us keeps increasing day by day.

The accidental encounter yesterday shook me to my core, it had been so long since we had actually spoken to each other. It felt so surreal. We had a fallout, a messy one at that. We fought and everybody decided to label us as enemies as we stopped talking to each other after our horrible fight. And since the people around us are still the same, they think they know our story.

I flip back my long hair encroaching towards my left eye as my right side has an undercut. I have few piercings and tattoos so people think they have me all figured out. The fact that I am from the wrong part of the town doesn't help either.

I wasn't always like this, there was a time I was super clean cut boy with Ivy League dreams in my eyes ever since I was a child. But after my father ... everything changed, nothing seems to have a point. So I went with whatever I felt like.

Now I have become someone I hardly recognize in the mirror.

Only a pair of green eyes seems to know me and stares at my soul sometimes when it's not trying to nullify my existence.

You know people like the back of your hand when you have spent all of your childhood together but then the same people change and become strangers and you feel like you never knew them in the first place.

If I leave my fingers without any possession in my hand, my fingertips tingles and craves to touch him. I tried relaxing my hand by repeatedly opening and closing my palms but the sensation doesn't go away. Touching his soft curly hairs was a mistake because suddenly my memory cells have got triggered now and the feel of his silky hairs are at the prime focus of every other thought in my brain.

It's an old habit, I acquired when we became acquaintances initially. He has always been a curiously flowing being, one moment & one moment there, especially when he was a child he wouldn't stay put. By mere coincidence one day I realized playing with his hair calmed him down and centered him enough to stay close to me, so I would always do that whenever I wanted him to be near me.

But that's how addiction starts, you think it's harmless and then realize it has become a part of your existential need . With us it has always been equal and opposite, as much he needed my touch to feel relaxed, that much I came to need the feel of his hairs to feel appreciated. He made me feel special by giving me the power to touch him to calmness. If I couldn't touch his hairs at my whim and fancy, I would feel neglected and that never sat right with me.

One would think I am being too poetic about his hairs but one has to touch it, feel it to understand my agony. The way he would close his eyes and melt into my touch, fully surrendering, completely trusting me, I never felt that way with anybody else. And I need it again.

I snap out of my reverie and focus on the sketchpad in front of me, its recess time and I should be eating food but I don't need food, I need something to keep my mind off him. Its pure torture burning right under my skin. Harry F-cking Styles has possessed my being and I hate him for this.

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