A Studious Affliction [Ziam] [Student/teacher]

Chapter Six.

Ziam next chapter! Sorry for the lack of Liam but this is a significant chapter for... many reasons. I couldn't have this chapter excluded but I promise that this is the only predominantly Zarry chapter in the whole story.

Zarry smut! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!

(Bare in mind that when it's Ziam smut, it'll be a different to how I wrote Zayn and Harry's scene below because Liam is... well... shall we say, aggresive? :P)

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I stare at myself in the mirror, hopping from one leg to the other anxiously, as if doing it will somehow drain me of my nervousness and make me into some sort of Greek God who can make everyone fall in love with them in a look. That will never happen, of course, because I'm all skin and no muscle but, hopefully, my outfit has taken me a step closer. I did spend about an hour picking through the carcass of my wardrobe after all, just so I can impress Harry. Or, try to at the least. He certainly blew me away when I went out with him the other week. So, for Harry and I's date, I have donned a pair of stonewashed skinny jeans, a shirt and a jacket but because I have no idea where he is going to take me, I'm considering stripping and turning up naked; I mean, what if I'm dressed too casually? What if I'm dressed too tightly or in too much, or what if I'm too dressed up? Maybe the shirt is a bit much but I want to look nice for him, after all, as I'm sure he will for me. Then again, he always looks nice. He could probably turn up in a bin bag and look nice - or, you know, he could turn up in nothing at all.

Nothing at all would be good.

"Zayn," Louis groans from the bed; his face is buried in my pillow so I can barely make out what he says next. He sounds like a suffocating whale or something.

I shuffle again, taking a step back from the mirror and heaving a heavy sigh. My fingers pick at my shirt buttons, trying to straighten myself out a bit. "What, Lou?" I ask impatiently. "Can't you see I'm freaking out right now?!"

Louis rolls over and gurgles out another groan, following it with, "Exactly. Stop it."

My eyes stray to look at him for a moment then ping back to me, analyzing every flick of my hair in the mirror. "Stop what?"

"Worrying! You look hot!"

Hot. I do not look hot. I look like something Shrek pulled out of his ear. "Yeah, sure," I say with a disbelieving scoff. "God, he's going to go blind when he sees me."

Louis sighs and turns his head, scanning me over once more. "Yeah," he agrees after a moment. My heart plummets in my chest at the confirmation and I feel down-trodden, as if I should just cancel the date I'm meant to be going on in five minutes. Then, Louis is clambering off the bed and meeting my eyes in the mirror, continuing with an enthusiastic, "because your hotness will burn his eyes!"

My cheeks flare to life and I splutter on air, caught off-guard. "I - eh - what?" 

Louis smirks like a shark and saunters up behind me. His hipbone presses into my bum. "If I were Harry, I'd shag you. Then again, I'm Louis, and I've already shagged you." He shrugs, ignoring the obvious hue to my cheeks, and continues off-handedly, "Still. I'd shag you again."

I don't know how to reply. Everything suddenly feels very awkward and stiff inside of me, like my guts have frozen over because all of my blood has rushed to my cheeks. "Well, I..." What am I even meant to say to that?! "Do - don't - I... See, Louis..."

Despite my stuttering, Louis only laughs and claps me on the back. "Don't worry, mate," he says with a grin. "I've already had my fill. It's Harry's turn."