Zustin

51. Zustin - Scrunchie, and Zee.

Justin played with Zayn's finger absentmindedly, turning them over, caressing the back of the hand with his thumb, running his fingers between the gaps of Zayn's fingers, pressing their palms together, pinching the bridge of Zayn's thumb. He enjoyed the softness and delicacy of Zayn's hands, they were perfect in his.

"Why is your body always so cold?" Justin asked concerned, leaning down placing his chin on Zayn's shoulder so his breath can fan over Zayn's ear and he could look at the goosebumps forming on Zayn's skin and the blush creeping from his neck to his ear with their close proximity.

"Not everyone can be from Canada." Zayn snorted.

Justin tilted his head and took in Zayn's satisfied looking face. At times like this, where Zayn would say something that he thinks is funny, Justin doesn't know how to feel - happy that Zayn is opening and sharing his sarcastic, cold, sometimes dark and witty humor with him or be totally offended with the cold, dark, sarcastic witty humor.

"That was mean," Justin muttered, pouting.

"Shut up. It was funny." Zayn grumbled and elbowed Justin going back to focus on the tv.

After few minutes Zayn noticed how Justin's arms were loose around him where they had tightly caged him before, his chin was also at the edge of his shoulder and not close to his face like it used to be. Justin had stopped playing with his fingers all-together instead he was playing with the strings of the red hoodie Zayn was wearing. The small part of Zayn's brain said finally Justin had stopped bothering him and wasn't grouping him at every given moment, but the bigger part was missing the touch of his warm skin against his cold one. He liked how whenever Justin came close to him his stomach would do flips and the butterflies would dance around. He didn't miss the blushing part that Justin lived to tease him about, he didn't miss those endless kisses Justin was keen on giving afterward.

Now Justin was pouting like a big man-child and was refusing to even glance at him indirectly. Zayn liked it when Justin looked at him and only him. Even if Zayn was not talking or paying attention to anything he would always feel Justin's eyes on him and a sense of security would settle in him.

"You are being grumpy," Zayn stated the obvious.

"Whatever do you mean," Justin mumbled as his head tilted on the opposite side from Zayn's and almost slide off from his shoulder.

Zayn wasn't aware of how to treat a person he possibly liked who had taken the path to whine like a small infant, who was also ignoring him and was answering so vaguely. So he didn't say anything, instead, he turned to the tv where some movie was playing and everyone was trying to kill each other, Zayn didn't realize when Justin had changed the channels from some romance series to an action movie.

"What's this?" Zayn asked when his own wandering hands had ended up on Justin's hands when he couldn't take it anymore and wanted to touch Justin, a little if nothing. His hands were on Justin's wrist where he felt something he had not before, like an instinct of something new that he had not noticed before but was just now realizing it. It was of soft material, not metal bracelet you find someone normally wearing. Zayn had seen Justin wearing bands and bracelets and have felt them to when Justin pinned his hands and the cold metal would press on his skin, but this was something he hadn't encountered before. 

"Just something," Justin said and watched with raised eyebrows as never curious Zayn lowered the blanket and looked down on his lap at Justin's wrist with curiosity.

"Is that my initial?" Zayn asked surprised. "And... what's this written behind?" He raised Justin's hand for a closer look of the band tied around his wrist. It was black cotton cloth with small 'Justin' written in purplish color scattered around everywhere on the material. Then there was a silver metal 'Z' hooked in the middle, shining brightly.