the witch next door [zarry] ✔️

xiii

"Come on, I hear you witches are freaky in bed."

Zain looks up from where he's trying to safe the tomatoes from falling to the bottom of the shopping bag and being crushed, his eyes finding Harry almost instantly.

Harry is standing in front of Markus, who Zain remembers all too well from own time at school and had somewhat successfully evaded ever since. Harry looks mostly annoyed, frowning with pinched lips. He's still so very pretty, as always, his hair falling around his shoulders in soft waves. He's wearing one of his long skirts today and a loudly printed shirt. 

Zain shakes himself out of it, shouldering his bag and inching towards them. He doesn't want to impose, but with Markus you never knew.

"Then you've also heard that I can give you very painful boils," Harry says cooly, glaring at Markus.

"Don't be like that, pet," Markus says, reaching for Harry. Zain wrinkles his nose.

"Do not touch me!" Harry says, sharply, pulling at his arm.

"Let him go, Markus," Zain says, starting towards them in earnest, because Markus had always escalated things very quickly if things didn't go his way.

"Shut up, Malik, go back to your mummy," Markus snaps, pulling at Harry's arm. Zain's not even sure what that's supposed to do but he also doesn't have to keep wondering because Harry narrows his eyes, seeming to glow suddenly and then Markus yelps, pulling his hand away.

"You fucking witch!" he snarls, cradling his hand. It looks red and burnt and Zain's kinda impressed.

"Don't touch me," Harry snaps again and then reaches for Zain, taking his hand. Zain's slightly stunned at the contact, letting himself be pulled along. 

"You okay?" Zain asks once they're a bit further down the street and he's kind of managed to gather himself."You good?"

"Yea," Harry says, straightening and pushing his hair from his forehead, sounding winded. "I'm not good with that kind of spells. I do better with love, not rejection or hate or something like that." He doesn't let go of Zain's hand but slows down somewhat, linking their fingers more comfortably.

"Well," Zain says awkwardly, stroking his thumb over the smooth skin of Harry's hand. "I'd say everyone who pushes that pig away does so out of love for themselves and probably humanity. He's been awful since school."

"Oh," Harry says, looking at Zain with wide eyes. "Zain," he whispers, stopping abruptly. Before Zain can reach, he's taking Zain's face between his hands and kissing him. "You're brilliant," he says, leaning back in to kiss Zain again, lingering with his soft lips pressed to Zain's.

Zain blinks, stunned speechless, and tries to remember how to breath.

"What?" he says dumbly as Harry steps back with a small frown on his face.

"Too bad I can't practise with you," Harry says, mostly to himself. "Oh, too bad."

"What?" Zain repeats, stumbling after Harry as he starts walking towards their houses again, pulling on his necklaces and muttering to himself like he did not just steal all of Zain's brain function with a single kiss.

"Motivation," Harry mutters, "if my motivation for refusal is love not disgust, it should work. If only I could practice. I'll see you tomorrow," he adds to Zain when they come up to Zain's house, turning around to smile at him and stealing Zain's breath again. "Thank you."

"I — see you," Zain says, staring after him, still not quite sure what happened.

🌿