Next To My Heart (Zarry AU)

Part 20

A week later and Harry still can't stop thinking of that one night. It's actually gotten to the point where he gets over excited by something simple like a hug, and it's driving him crazy.

See, Zayn hugs a lot. It's one thing Harry didn't know about him yet, but he does it now whenever they say goodbye. And it's not just a simple hug either, not the one shoulder pat Harry does with his other friends sometimes. Zayn does the ''two arms, I'll miss you'' kind of hug that makes Harry want to sing in the moment only to have his voice taken away the next because he wants to say so much to Zayn but doesn't think he ever will.

Basically, hugging Zayn is the best kind of torture.

All of this is going through his head when he's preparing for the hug, because Harry likely won't see him again until the next day, only to taken aback when Zayn doesn't initiate anything, just stares at Harry instead.

''What is it?'' he asks, trying to get Zayn to talk.

''Well, I was wondering if you wanted to grab dinner somewhere? I can't be bothered to cook today, and honestly I just wanted to really check out this Italian place I came across months ago but-''

''Sure.'' If Harry hadn't stopped Zayn's rant he would still be talking and probably going red in the face from saying everything in one breath. Also, Zayn had him at the first sentence.

''What?''

''I said yes. Is it far away?''

''Oh.'' Zayn smiles widely. It really makes Harry want to kiss him. ''No, it's walking distance.''

''Great. Lead the way!'' It's just dinner. He had that with Zayn many times already, in each of their apartments.

Nothing special about it.

And it's on their way back home that he starts doubting that. Because dinner was almost... romantic. Harry only had one glass of wine but it feels as if he downed a whole bottle. Staring into Zayn's eyes for an evening probably does that to a person. It's just, he couldn't look away. Also, Zayn looked back. Maybe not as intensely as Harry was probably looking at him, but still.

Or he was just trying to be polite.

Why is everything so confusing?

Were they on a date? The word hasn't been used a single time, and they have dinner together all the time. But this was different. Special, even. Harry can't just ask Zayn. That would make things weird. Is he overthinking this? Definitely. Is he going to keep thinking about it for the rest of the week?

Probably.

Is it going to stop him from spending more time with Zayn? Never. He's just thinking of what they could do the rest of the evening when Zayn speaks up.

''So, I don't have any work for tonight. We could like, watch a film?''

Harry pauses before going up the staircase. ''Sounds good. Whose place?''

''Yours?'' Zayn shrugs, and Harry follows him upstairs. ''Your couch is more comfortable.''

''Oh, so that's why we always hang out at mine?''

''And you have snacks.''

Harry scoffs. ''I buy them because I know you're going to eat them.''

Zayn stops then, looking down at Harry. ''You buy snacks for me?''

''And I got your favourite,'' he says softly, wishing Zayn would keep walking so Harry can pretend to be busy focusing on not falling, instead of looking up into Zayn's eyes, trying not to lose himself in their warmth.

''You're right,'' Zayn laughs, ''I am going to eat them.''

''Save a few for me, alright?''

Zayn assures him he will and pats Harry on the back while he unlocks his door. Harry tells him to choose something to watch on Netflix while he gets them something to drink and to munch on. When he carries the tray to the living room, he sees Zayn hasn't made a move to pick anything yet, instead caught up in looking at the photos Harry left on the coffee table earlier when he was trying to find new ones to put on his wall. He completely forgot.

''You took these?'' Zayn asks, moving the photos to the side so Harry has room to place down the tray.

''Yeah, a while back. I took them in the park.'' Harry sits next to Zayn, their knees nearly touching. He tries to remember when it became normal to sit this close to him, but comes up completely empty.

''I love this one, with the leaves.'' Zayn picks one out of the bunch, handing it to Harry. ''Oh, and how did the wedding photos turn out? I never asked.''

''Ruth loved them. She even sent me a massive gift basket.'' Harry chuckles, shaking his head. ''I told her to pay me in food, but never specified an amount. Guess I should've seen it coming, huh?''

''Yeah, sounds like Ruth.'' Zayn seems to be lost in thought for a moment, looking at the rest of the photos on the table. ''Hey, you're going to put this one on your wall with the rest?''

''I am.'' Harry vaguely remembers telling Zayn about his wall of photos, probably a while ago.

''Can I see? I mean, I kind of caught a glimpse last time but I didn't dare ask.''

''Of course.'' Harry tries not to think about how Zayn is following him into his bedroom. It's different from last time, when they were just passing through and he didn't get the chance to really see Zayn in his space like this.

''Oh wow,'' Zayn breathes, taking a step closer to inspect each photo.

''It's just,'' Harry waves his hand around, trying to will his blush away, ''I don't know.''

''They're amazing.'' Zayn doesn't even look away, his gaze stuck to the wall.

''I do only select the best ones. Most of them were lucky shots.''

Zayn shakes his head. ''Nonsense. It takes expertise to even find the lucky shots.''

''You tried photography?'' Harry sits on his bed, feeling like he's watching Zayn observe things in a museum. Or an art gallery.

''Yeah, tried.''

''Wait, you were bad at something?'' Harry leans back on his hands, smug grin on his face. It always annoys him to no end that Zayn does just about anything well, with a grace that not many people have. Certainly not Harry; he isn't particularly graceful.

''Shut up.'' Zayn suddenly freezes, his hand coming up to briefly touch one photo. ''This one, it was taken at the wedding?''

''What?'' Harry rushes off his bed, coming to stand next to Zayn to see what he's pointing at. It's the photo that they took - the three of them - with Harry over Liam's shoulder and Zayn in the background, bent over, laughing. ''Oh, yes. It was.''

''Could you give me a copy of it?''

''Of course.'' Harry looks sideways at Zayn, who's back staring at the wall, this time with a frown on his face.

''There aren't any photos of you.''

''What do you mean?'' He is in some of the photos, even the very one Zayn wants a copy of.

''I mean, there are no photos of just you. You alone.''

Harry snorts, crossing his arms. ''Wouldn't that be weird?''

''Oh.'' Zayn shrugs, ducking his head. ''Maybe.''

''You know,'' Harry elbows him softly, trying to lighten up the situation because it feels oddly heavy, ''if you want a photo of me, you could just tell me.''

''Funny,'' Zayn deadpans, pushing Harry away before going back to the living room.

Harry tries not to notice the red flush on Zayn's cheeks. If he pretends it wasn't there, he won't have to think about the why.

He has enough to think about already.

You can sense the moment nearing.. Not too long now ;) Next part will be up on Friday!

Until then xxx <3