About the River and Cliché | Zarry

Chapter Eleven

There are a lot of secrets that Harry only kept with himself. For example, he thinks George Harrison was the best member of the Beatles; he used to believe Turkey was in Africa until he finally paid attention to the world map in the classroom one day during the eighth grade; he always adds too much sugar to his coffee that always ends up tasting like milk tea; he lost his virginity at seventeen; his memory is way betterthan what he really needs it to be.

"I thought we'd go by car."

Zayn can't help but grumbling after twenty minutes of roaming. Harry doesn't look at him, continuing leading the road and replying in a leisure tone.

"There is no road for cars. You'll be stuck between the bushes," says Harry absent-mindedly. It doesn't help ease Zayn's jitter. He keeps getting distracted by random wood debris and sticks rambling onto the road. There is barely a light on the way, but the halo of the moon glowing at the edge of the leaves. The deeper they penetrate, the more desolate it gets.

"You know if you're actually planning to murder me here, I won't even be surprised." Zayn mutters again as he almost slips when stepping on the puddle, which makes Harry start cackling annoyingly. He doesn't know why he's laughing. There is this wry flame of delight flaming beneath his heart and he doesn't even know how the fire was set.

When the riverbank is finally in their sight, he hears Zayn puff a relieved sound. At least that's what Harry thinks, because he's pretty sure no one will gasp in awe when they see the dullest river ever in the world. The fallen leaves are floating above the surface, shimmering in the starlight as it reveals the lifeless riverbed, with moss scattering over the rocks along the riverbank. If this river had a name, it would probably be disappointing.

"It's stunning." Zayn coos.

"Well, you don't have to be nice." Harry wiggles his brow, sneering at Zayn's comment. His soon-to-be stepbrother gives him a sidelong glance, shaking his head with a given-up smile. But Harry is not preoccupied. He walks toward the river while taking off the shirt. Zayn is gaping at him in shock.

"Um-"

"What? I just wanna get into the water." Harry stares back, taking off his jeans carelessly, "So you're gonna just stand there and watch?"

But Zayn doesn't retorts, pinching his bottom lip nervously. "I-I'd rather stay here. Thanks."

Harry's hands stop on his belt. "Excuse me?" he looks up at Zayn with a puzzled frown, "you've been nagging and begging me to show you this damn river, just for standing up there and watching me splattering water half-nakedly?"

"I don't see any problem with that."

Harry arches his eyebrow.

"Ok, fine." Zayn throws his hands up abruptly, looking away to hide the flush on his cheeks. "I can't fucking swim, happy now? I'm not gonna drown myself in a nameless river in front of my stepbrotherwho only has his underwear on. That's not how I picture my own death."

He gulps after babbling his answer in a hurry, still not turning his head back. Harry pops his eyes out, blinking at Zayn with another question, "Then why would you even want to visit this stupid river?"

"It's my right to be curious, especially when you acted like you'd rather die than bringing me here." Zayn protests, "Anyway, I'm not coming down there, end of the argument."

"The water is shallow-"

"-Why don't you just get into the water real quick, and do whatever- I don't know- your little mermaid tricks?" Zayn scolds, sulking with embarrassment. Harry titters, kicking off his shoes and dipping his feet into the river while teasing Zayn's irritated face.