Retrograde | ZS

III. Our Purpose

While Zayn follows the childish life of the party, he admires the white walls with abstract paintings that give the setting some color. Despite there being miscellaneous plants and statues, it works just as much as it doesn't belong.

It feels comfortable in this community center and truthfully, Zayn doesn't mind if he has to attend one of these organizations again.

There are so many vacant rooms. Some as if it's a dance studio, and tons with tables and chairs. Then there's pool table rooms, ping pong, computer labs.

It's understandable why Harry would love this. Harry is social, outgoing, the brightest star out there. Zayn still doesn't understand why he let Harry slip out of his hands back when they were young. He knows why, but doesn't understand it.

"Zayn?" Harry whispers, "Kitchen is this way." Zayn observes the way Harry giggles, his nose scrunch to the squints his eyes turn into as if the sun is shining too bright for his sight, and how could he forget the dimples that Zayn constantly craved to poke a pinky at.

"Yeah! Kitchen. Floor one, hmm, Room C?" Zayn points to a random door that's closed causing Harry to shake his head, "No, it's actually just Kitchen. Just like the room with books is a Library." Harry puts a thumb on Zayn's wrist, wrapping his slim fingers completely.

"Getting sassy on me, Styles? Yeah?" Zayn ends up confidently striding toward the kitchen. It's not like he knows how to navigate his way around this foreign in place but the signs above them with arrows does help.

"Zayn! How do you─" Before Harry can question, Zayn points at the directory sign and gives Harry a grin before piloting their steps.

When they stand in front of broad two glass doors, Harry opens it first this time and the two set their bags onto the counters. "Okay, brief tour. Fridge, oven, sink." Harry points around and Zayn isn't sure if he's being sarcastic or if this introduction is pure knowledge from Harry to Zayn.

"Right and let me guess, dishwasher?" Zayn announces as he tugs on the handle near the oven. "No silly, that's a microwave." Out of dismay and embarrassment, Zayn scratches the back of his neck nervously, releasing a tiny, "Oh. Yeah, I knew that."

Harry takes charge, almost like the last time when they made vegetable patties. All these multiple orders and statements Harry tosses at Zayn has him perplexed. Zayn briefly mumbles to himself, "Eight table spoons of butter? Four cups of brown sugar? What the hell."

"Look, here just look at the ingredients. All I'm asking if for you to lay all the items out into the measuring cups. Teamwork!" Harry chants, categorizing the items to make it easier to find. From dry ingredients, to wet, Harry makes columns in the order he wants them so Zayn can measure for Harry's use later.

"Well what are you doing?" Zayn scoffs, teasingly of course because he could never actually be upset or irritated with Harry, that's only if it's a serious case. In which, their previous relationship hardly ever had fights or dramatic disputes.

"I just organized it to make it easier for you to find. I'll help you in a second!" Harry answers, retrieving a cute apron with cherries and bananas on it. "Okay, now I'm ready!"

Throughout the process, Zayn listens to every word coming out of Harry's lips, occasionally getting distracted by the way it moves though, both his lips and Harry's biceps as he stirs the dough in the large mixing bowl.