Young & Beautiful (Zarry)

Let Me Live That Fantasy

There's a familiar glint in Zayn's eye before he gets up to lead me to his bedroom sans shirt. It's that old spark, that old confidence Zayn would draw me in with.

I shake my head.

I'm only taking pictures of him. That's it. Nothing else is happening, only pictures. No matter what I tell myself my heart won't slow down and I know my face is reddened with blush as I follow Zayn down the familiar hallway to his room. My eyes take in the perfect muscle of his back and fuck, is there a single part of Zayn that doesn’t scream sex? Memories of us fooling around in here swirl around and I think of mentioning it but it wouldn’t be a smart move to make.

I bite my lip as I step through the doorway and my eyes land on Zayn scooting to the center of the bed.

The gray and black sheets on the bed rustle as Zayn lies back on them, his golden eyes assessing me for direction.

I'm flustered again like this is the first time I'm taking photos of him. His lips are luscious and pouty, his midnight black hair is in a tired quiff, and his beautiful warm skin is on perfect display.

I'm gazing at the dark heart tattoo on his hip just above the waist band of his black briefs when he clears his throat with a little smirk on those gorgeous lips.

"Harry you're making me blush."

It's as if Zayn has the upper hand on me once more. I can't be too upset because this is the Zayn that's taken my heart hostage.

But this is what he wants. He wants to make me flustered. He wants me as stupidly smitten as I once was and that, is not what I want.

"If you think we're gonna be shagging each other tonight, you're wrong." I let him know as I adjust the lens focus of my Nikon.

"The thought hadn't crossed my mind." His voice is laced with something I can't quite place.

I lift the camera up to my eye and look at Zayn through it. I want to let Zayn know just how breath taking he looks. A bit of stubble is lining that chiseled jaw in such a rugged way and I want to crawl onto the bed to rub my own cheek against his.

"What should I do?" Zayn questions.

"Lie back...hike one leg up...yeah, now put one arm across your forehead. Look directly into the camera. Relax your mouth...." I instruct as I snap the first shot.

With new experience under my belt, I'm not so shy to get what I want in terms of a photo. I know what'll look good and I know the angles of Zayn's face. It would've been nicer if I would’ve had some sunlight to work with. He just looks so perfect when the light brightens his butterscotch colored eyes.

"What now?"

"One hand on your abdomen and the other holding the headboard." I direct.

He complies as he wets his lips with the swipe of his pink tongue.

I adjust the lens and kneel down to get a different angle.

There's no such thing as a good side or bad side when it comes to Zayn. He looks to die for in every side. My eyes wander up the new sleeve of tattoos on his forearm. They're all a little strange really and I want to a run a finger on the edges of each one and ask him why he got every single one of them.

I snap a few more pictures, the shutter clicking being the only audible noise in the room. Normally, I'd have my iPod plugged in playing some mellow music in the background to calm my nerves.

"Would you just say something?" Zayn asks, sliding his feet off the bed as he sits on the edge of the bed.

"What would you like me to say?" I question, fiddling with the camera.