Smoke & Mirrors • Zarry

7. Sledgehammer

"You could have a steam train, if you'd just lay down your tracks. You could have an aeroplane flying, if you bring your blue sky back. All you do is call me, I'll be anything you need. You could have a big dipper, going up and down, all around the bends. You could have a bumper car, bumping. This amusement never ends."

Zayn groaned, turning over in bed as he clutched onto his black down comforter, pulling it over his head, burying himself into his lush pillow as the noise woke him up from what had been a peaceful sleep. The blaring sound of Sledgehammer by Peter Gabriel infiltrated his room, his brain, he could hear Harry's voice ringing out loudly with the lyrics, singing at the top of his lungs and it echoed throughout his apartment like he was having his own personal concert.

"I want to be your sledgehammer. Why don't you call my name? Oh let me be your sledgehammer. This will be my testimony."

Zayn groaned again, realizing that Harry obviously wasn't going to stop and he was never going to get back to sleep at this rate, so Zayn shoved his blankets off of him, planting both feet firmly on the floor as he tossed on a white t-shirt that was laying there, wincing slightly upon remembering that his hand was still injured but he swung open his bedroom door anyway, looking over to see Harry in his kitchen, cooking, wearing nothing but his navy blue boxer briefs.

"Show me round your fruit cakes, cause I will be your honey bee. Open up your fruit cakes, where the fruit is as sweet as can be."

"Harry what the hell are you doing?!" Zayn shouted at him, stalking over toward the kitchen and he watched Harry turn around, smiling at Zayn with his dimpled cheeks.

"Making breakfast," he answered, lowering the volume down on his phone just then before leaning forward to turn off the stove burner and he grabbed a spatula, lifting pancakes from the pan onto two plates.

"Do you want fruit with yours?" he then asked. "You had some strawberries in the fridge so I cut them up because I tend to like putting them on top with some syrup."

"Did I say you could just help yourself to my kitchen?" Zayn asked, observing that Harry had not only made pancakes but he also had made both cinnamon toast and scrambled eggs as well.

Zayn watched as Harry prepared the two plates with a bit of each food item, not even bothering to acknowledge Zayn and acting like he owned everything.

"I'm going to just put them on the side and you can decide for yourself," Harry said, disregarding Zayn's question completely. "Here," he then said, handing the plate to Zayn with a soft smile.

Zayn just rolled his eyes at Harry and took the plate from him, not even sure what to say anymore. Harry had absolutely no business just making himself comfortable in Zayn's apartment, but this was Harry, after all, and he'd be lying if he said that he was even the least bit surprised by Harry's brashness.

Zayn proceeded to take a seat at the kitchen table anyway, eying the food on his plate. It did look pretty delicious, he admitted, and he glanced over at Harry who was standing a few meters away, still nearly naked, taking a bite of his scrambled eggs, his hair pulled back in a low bun, a piece of hair falling out and dangling in front of his eye and Zayn felt his breath grow short again. He looked away quickly and grabbed a fork, cutting into an incredibly fluffy looking pancake and took a bite.

"Wow, this is real good actually," Zayn said as Harry smiled again, taking a seat across from him at the table.

"Of course it is," Harry responded. "I made them with a secret ingredient."

"What?"

"Arsenic."

"You're batshit crazy you know that?"