Let It Pour (Zarry one-shot)

I've had this one shot for quite a while now, probably a few months or so and I started to update it over the past week and it's finally to the point I want it to be... I was bored when I wrote this so it won't be completely perfect and there's not much of a story, but I'm quite happy with how it turned out c:

I hope you guys like it!

*****

I collapsed down on the sofa and exhaled, flipping my head back and running my hands through my hair, panting after the long run home.

So Harry has feelings for me after all.

I feel bad, although he knows I'm not gay, or even bisexual for that matter. He knew what he was getting himself in for.

But why did he intrigue me so much? I found myself thinking about him and his little quirks all the time, like the way his tongue sticks out a little before he eats, his ridiculous obsession with bananas and how he smiles with not just his mouth but his entire face when he's really happy, or when he does that little hair flip even though it looks exactly the same afterwards.

I'm in too deep.

I sighed and sat back up. As though on cue, I heard a knock at the door. Swinging my legs onto the floor, I stood up and walked towards the door. I looked through the peephole to see a familiar mop of curly brown hair and piercing green eyes.

"Can you please just leave me alone?" I shouted, leaning backwards against the door, my head lulled back. I stared at the ceiling for a good few seconds until he spoke again.

"Zayn, open the door, I think we need to talk," Harry replied, his voice calm and soothing.

I sighed and pushed down on the door handle, allowing him to come inside.

"What?" I demanded. "Why are you here?"

"We need to talk about... us." Harry remained calm, and reached out to touch my arm. I shrugged him off violently.

"There is no 'us' so there's nothing to talk about." My arms folded across my soaking wet torso as I stared him down. This rainy weather was really getting to me, it'd been going non-stop for around 4 days now. Although, as much as I hate to admit it, it was kind of endearing that Harry had chased me through the rain all the way from his apartment.

"Really?" Harry asked, starting to smirk. He paced closer to me.

My heart started to race faster with each footstep. "Y-yes, really. I don't like you, Harry."

"Mm," he mumbled, patronising me. "Keep telling yourself that."

I stumbled back and hit the sideboard, then he backed me up against the wall behind me, a flick of his hair dripping water down to the floor.

"I don't like you like that," I tried to tell him but I knew I no longer sounded sure. My voice cracked with every word.

"Hm, interesting," he continued, biting his lip as he pressed his own wet body against mine. "So why did you kiss me back?"

I froze in my spot, unable to form a coherent sentence. "I-I um, I-" I began but he cut me off, sharply.

"No, not attracted to me at all. Could've fooled me." He bit his lip again. His cockiness was so attractive and the lip biting drove me insane.

I cast my mind back to just under half an hour previous to this moment, how we'd been caught in the rain while we were out getting coffee and had taken shelter at Harry's place. He'd warmed me up, put the kettle on and made me feel right at home. He'd given me his grey knitted sweater and a comfortable pair of jeans which smelled like his aftershave and the soft floral scent of his fabric softener. I'd sat down on the couch in front of the TV with Harry and we were only talking... and that was when he made the move on me. It was only a soft kiss, our lips gently bumping. I was going to get on with it and forget what happened but then he'd leaned in yet again, this time more lingering and passionnate, which was kind of hard to ignore. I did respond for a second or two... In fact, it was kind of nice. But this was Harry. It was wrong.

So why did I enjoy it, even if it was just slightly?

I'd bolted out of the door the second I'd pulled away. That one kiss left me in a whirlwind of emotions and now I was back to how it was during the walk, or rather sprint, back - internally debating my feelings and sopping wet from the rain, my heart pounding at the thought of Harry. Only this time, he was within a mere metre of me, making it even harder for me to think straight.

"I don't like you". Could've fooled myself.

Our faces were inching closer and closer together until there was barely an inch between us. My heart thudded even more off-beat the closer he got.

I am not in denial. I don't like him. Not even a little bit.

"What are you thinking?" Harry asked, his warm breath dispersing across my face, his mouth perking up into a slight smirk, his eyes tracing my lips.

The temptation was too much and I gave in. "Damn it, just let me kiss you." I could barely finish my sentence before my lips crashed onto his and my hands were writhing through his curly locks, pulling his head closer to mine, hungry for the touch of his soft, plump lips.

I'd be lying if I said I hadn't thought about what it would be like to kiss Harry like this. I imagined it to be... different. Although what I imagined was nothing compared to the real thing. His lips were firm but soft to the touch, kind of like that of a marshmallow. A symphony of fruit and mint shot through my mouth when his tongue entered upon my approval. A soft groan escaped from his mouth and I smiled into the kiss, finally realising that I did, in fact, like Harry and I had done for a long time without acknowledging it. There was no denying it now. And there was nothing greater than knowing he was pleasured by my kiss.

Harry pulled away for a few seconds and whispered, "I knew you'd crack," planting a couple of chaste kisses against my lips, before entwining his fingers in mine. I looked into the bright green irises above me, kissing a raindrop off the tip of Harry's nose. "And you don't like men, huh?" he teased, smirking a little.

My mouth twitched into a small smile, sporting a look of innocence. "I guess you're an exception."