Heartstrings ➳ z.m.

twenty-one - zayn

            And Zayn doesn’t understand. Because he’s doing the right thing; he’s saving them both from heartache.

            So why does this feel so wrong?

            “Don’t,” Liam warns Harry, but the other boy doesn’t even falter, jerking Zayn by the elbow as the others enter the building.

            “What is your problem?” He starts, and Zayn keeps his head to the floor because he’s already confused enough and doesn’t need Harry yelling at him on top of it all.

            Zayn starts to squirm from the younger boy’s grasp, but soon realizes that it’s all futile. Harry wants an answer. “Maybe she and Louis will be better together.”

            Harry scoffs, and pushes Zayn back until his back is pressed flush against the brick, and he’s forced to look up. “That’s shit and we all know it. What’s going on, Zayn, really? She loves you, man, and I know you love her too.”

            And Zayn sighs. He runs his hand through his quiff and leans back against the wall, closing his eyes. “I just don’t want anybody to get hurt. She deserves better than… My problems.”

            “You’re hurting her more now than you could even think,” Harry whispers, and Zayn opens his eyes, meets those emerald jewels. “I know something happened with you before, and I know that it must’ve been bad, but Zayn you can’t let that rule your life. And you can’t do this to Skylar, either. Stop stringing her along. Either keep her or let her go. Because I love her, mate, I do. Not in the same way that you do, but I love her and I can’t see her get hurt anymore, okay?”

            And Zayn nods, because he gets it. He has to let Ali go, because Ali isn’t Skylar and Skylar isn’t Ali and they’re not alike at all. And so he can’t let that control him anymore. “I’ll talk to her after rehearsal.”

            Harry nods curtly, stalking in and Zayn follows close behind. When he meets Skylar’s eyes, he gives her a small smile.

            She smiles back, and Zayn feels the air whoosh back into his lungs.

            Everything will be okay.

            He just has to let go.

            Rehearsal goes by better than Zayn had imagined. He answers the questions, he sings, he jokes around the stage.

            It’s exhilarating, and he wonders how he’s missed this all this time.

            In the car, Skylar is hesitant to sit by him. So he pulls her down beside him, her falling half into his lap, a silly grin on her face.

            “I’m sorry,” he starts off. “I’m sorry that I’m so horrible, and you really deserve a better boyfriend than me, and—”

            “You didn’t tell me that you two had made it official,” Harry interrupts, twisting in his seat to look at the two in the back row of the van. “That would’ve been nice to mention.”

            “So you could yell at me more?” Zayn shoots back, shaking his head. “No thanks, man.”

            “I was only knocking some sense into you,” Harry frowns, and then chuckles at Skylar’s expression. “Figuratively, of course. I’d never hurt your little fragile butterfly.”

            “I’m not a butterfly!”

            “Well,” Skylar chuckles, pressing a chaste kiss to his nose, “butterflies are cute. And I think that you’re cute too.”

            Zayn wants to argue that he’s not ‘cute’, because that word is reserved for rainbows, and puppies, and other feminine sort of things, but he decides not to question it, pulling her to his chest instead.

            She laughs, and tugs his neck down to kiss him again, and Harry lets out a groan, mumbling about PDA.

            And it’s the most odd thing, but it feels normal.

            It feels right.

            They’ve barely stumbled into Zayn’s room when Skylar is pushing him against a wall, tugging on the hem of his shirt.

            “What are you doing?” He asks, and she looks at him through his lashes, a small smile on her face.

            “I’ve missed you.”

            And she continues to kiss his neck, his face, everywhere, until Zayn has steadied his heartbeat and meets her lips with his own.

            “Maybe I should go missing more often,” he jokes, and Skylar scoffs against his lips, pushing him onto the bed.

            Zayn decides he likes bossy Skylar.

            Definitely a turn on.

            “You’re a dick,” she murmurs against his cheek, and then her lips are meeting his again, and her hands are spanning over the length of his bare chest.

            “M’sorry,” he tells her, dizzy and breathless when her tongue trails across his Friday? tattoo, and then he’s gripping the sheets and meeting her lips because he needs some friction.

            “Why do I have a feeling that you don’t mean it?”

            And Zayn wishes that she’d shut up and keep kissing him, because it’s painful watching her swollen, bruised lips move when they’re not flushed against his own.

            “Because I don’t.”

            Skylar chuckles, resting her forehead on his, dotting small kisses on his face before sucking a small mark at the base of his neck. “Decided I’d give you a little tattoo of my own. Payback.”

            And Zayn grins, wondering how in the world he could’ve thought that leaving this girl was possible.

            “I love you, you dork.”

            “I thought I was your butterfly?”

            She smiles, nodding. “You are. You’re my everything.”

            And even though Zayn thinks that it’s the corniest line, he can’t keep himself from smiling because when he thinks about it, she’s his everything too.

            “And I love you too, Sky.”

            “I like the way you say my name.”

            “I like the way you moan mine.”

            Skylar laughs, shaking her head and pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. “You’re an idiot. But promise me that you won’t do this again, alright?”

            Zayn nods, drawing her even closer and resting his chin on her head, her lips pressed to his neck. “I promise.”

            And he really does mean it, this time.

            Because he’s grey and Skylar’s color and they complement each other like hot rain on dry asphalt.

            And it feels right.

______*______*______*______

Harry's like that older brother who'll do everything to protect his little sister.

I don't know why I even added the end bit, bit I like it. x