Buses & Bunk Beds (Zarry)

Chapter 2

The next morning I woke up with a start, images of the night before flooding my mind. Truth or Dare...the kiss...overhearing Harry...coming so hard I thought I was exploding...how the fuck had I let things get so out of control? I groaned and pressed my fists to my eyes, worse case scenarios running through my head. What if Harry had heard me? What would I say to him? How would I be able to look him in the eye?

Like the coward I was, I stayed in bed as long as I could, ignoring the sounds of the other guys waking up and moving about the bus. Around 11:00 I got a text from Paul that it was time to meet with the trainer in the weight room in the arena we'd arrived at during the night.

I knew that I couldn't avoid the boys any longer, so I swung out of my bunk and got ready. Everyone else had already left, so I exited the bus alone and met up with a bodyguard who escorted me inside. I took a deep breath before entering the exercise room and tried to look normal, even though I had forgotten what normal felt like.

The guys were all hanging around, their workouts not having started yet. They each said hello as I walked towards them, and Harry smiled widely at me as I approached the group. Actually, 'smiled' doesn't begin to describe it. He lit up like a fucking Christmas tree. What the fuck did that mean?

Part of me wanted to grin right back at him, but the other part was confused. I tried to think back to how he usually greeted me but my mind was drawing a blank. Was he thinking about last night? Would things be different between us now?

Then Harry held up his gloved hands and said, "Ready to rumble Sugar Ray?" and just like that I realized that nothing had changed in his eyes. This was the same old Harry being playful and goofy like he was with everyone. I expected to feel relieved, but instead a heavy weight settled onto my chest. This was what I wanted, right? For last night to be forgotten as a drunken one off? But for some reason pretending that it all never happened felt wrong to me, deep in my bones. I guess that while Harry remained unchanged by last night's events, I couldn't say the same.

Trying to shrug off my disappointment, I swatted Harry's arm and returned everyone's greetings. The trainer entered then and we all began our respective workouts. I tried to focus on my training and to push all other worries out of my mind. By the end I the session I was a sweaty mess, having pushed myself far harder than I generally did. Unfortunately I was only partially successful in settling my mind, but I made the decision to try to act as I always had with all the guys from that point forward.

As the day progressed, that proved harder to do than I'd hoped. I found myself being hyper-aware of all things Harry. I felt it when he entered a room before I saw or heard him. It was like the air became sharper somehow. Crisper, making it easier to see details I might have overlooked previously. Like how broad his shoulders were and how his chocolate curls had lighter streaks woven through them. I made a mental note to ask Lou if she had highlighted his hair or if the golden parts were natural. Jesus, I was turning into a fucking girl here. You do not give a fuck about anyone's hair Zayn.

I had always enjoyed attention from Harry, but now I found myself basking in it. Hell, I fucking craved it. I caught myself comparing how he treated me to how he acted towards the rest of the guys, counting up smiles and touches like I needed them to live. Like they could add up to him feeling like I did. But I never really felt like I was pulling ahead of the other boys in the race that logically I knew existed only in my mind. Harry was sweet and affectionate with everyone, handing out love like it didn't affect him at all. Like there was no risk to him that it wouldn't be returned. I guess for him there wasn't.

Sound check and the show that night went well, though I did stumble over my lyrics in Little Things when I noticed Harry looking at me. Jesus, did he look at everyone with so much sincerity and fucking love written on his face? Deep down I suspected that he did. Despite knowing this, I couldn't keep my heart from beating a little faster when he looked directly at me when he sang "you're perfect to me."