Tattoo Heart (Zarry)

Four

***

Hours Later.

Zayn's drinking again. It was stupid. Incredibly, dismayingly stupid to be drinking over something so petty. He blames it on Harry. He wouldn't be drinking if it weren't for that horrible looking twat in his magnificent, testosterone-induced, sex god face...pettiness.

For the whole day, Zayn waited for him to make a move; to ask him how the popcorn machine works, the price of their beverages, the direction to the loo, and maybe to a fucking snog, but to Zayn's disbelief and strangely inane feeling of utter betrayal he didn't. In fact Harry didn't even said a word to him other than 'goodbye' when his shift ended. And whenever Zayn walks over to Harry, Harry would make a mad dash to the other side of the room as if Zayn's carrying a plague in his pocket.

So with that, Zayn's drinking his feelings away, trying to forget everything about Harry, and so far he had succeeded in not thinking about him at all. He's not thinking of him. Not even close. Not even if it would cure leprosy. As a matter of fact, who the fuck is Harry fucking Styles anyway? He's just Zayn's shockingly attractive curly-haired co-worker. The one with adorable dimples and the one who doesn't want to talk to Zayn.

Why doesn't he talk to Zayn?

Why why why?

Three days prior, Harry had been sending him relentless messages about work and his "relevant" skills that could help them gain more customers such as his competent ability to juggle and dance. Even when Zayn's at the toilet taking a crap, his phone will blare from Harry's insubstantial messages. And now that they finally meet face-to-face, it's like Harry's not interested in talking to him anymore; like he lost all of his time and energy.

Zayn was talking to an insanely attractive girl when from the corner of his eyes he spots a mop of curly hair making its way to the men's loo. Zayn lost all sense then. Surely that can't be Harry. There are a lot of men with curly hair and vibrant of sexiness and sex. Harry Styles can't be the only one...right?

But Zayn still follows after him, not quite sure why. He just have a mad feeling of wanting to see. Maybe it's the effects of the alcohol. The alcohol that's making him  yearn for that stupid bloke and making him drink and follow a bloke that may or may not be Harry.

When he pushes the door open, it was all he can do not to stumble idiotically and sigh dreamily when he spots Harry facing the urinals, doing his business.

"Harry." Zayn swoons. When Harry glances at him, his eyes went wide as he looks down at the urinal then back to Zayn.

And oh, Zayn just realized how awkward and strange this whole situation is for Harry. Zayn mentally slaps himself.

"Hi Zayn." Harry says as he finishes and zips up his trousers.

Hearing him say his name made Zayn smile drunkenly "You said my name." He giggles.

He chuckles "Are you drunk?"

Zayn frowns " 'Course not."

"Okay." He says, rubbing his neck awkwardly "What are you doing here?"

Zayn stiffens at that. He looks at the cubicles, wondering if he should go in so he can have an excuse for going to the loo, but killed that thought immediately, he doesn't want Harry to think he needs to take a dump. Then he looks at the urinals, thinking if he could just pretend he needs to pee, but what if Harry sticks around to wash his hands and not hear any sounds coming from Zayn? So, he went to the sink to wash his hands instead.

"Just washing my hands." He mumbles, bowing his head as he turns on the faucet, not wanting Harry to see his reddening cheeks. Harry looks at him briefly before shuffling for the door.

But before Harry can step out, something in Zayn snaps "Why are you doing that?" He asks, turning to Harry who has his hands frozen on the doorknob. He turns to Zayn with a confused, frightened look. He looks clearly caught off guard.

"W-what?" He stammer, still looking like a deer caught in a headlight.

"You don't talk to me." Zayn glares, hating the way he sounds like a spoiled kid. "You ignored me at work."

"O-oh." He flushes "Uhm..I-I'm sorry?"

"When we were texting you've given me an expression that you're the type that never runs out of words or can't keep to himself for more than a minute, but when you got to the cinema it's like you don't even know how to talk." Zayn doesn't know where he got the confidence to say all that, but God, he's sounding like Harry broke up with him. "Were you even the same person I was texting?" He scoffs.

"Of course, that was me." He says with a horrified look on his face, clearly frightened by Zayn's attitude. "I just...don't know how to talk to you."

Zayn looks at him with incredulity "You talked to me over the phone for three days."

"I didn't know you would look like this then." He points accusingly at Zayn.

Zayn frowns "Like what?"

Harry blushes "You just look so goddamn attractive, that it would be believable if you introduced yourself as George Clooney and Julia Roberts' long lost son. And you look so breathtaking, it's like you're a random photo from the internet that's been heavily photoshop and have crazy amounts of filters. And you look so fit, you could be a model or an actor and become one of Jennifer Aniston's ex-boyfriend or the fourth husband of Angelina Jolie. And you're so mesmerizing that you could probably start a war like what Helen of Troy's beauty did."

Zayn can't find it in himself to even chuckle, play it off as a joke. He was too shock to even blink "You think I'm that attractive?"

"Y-yeah." Harry says "I'm sorry." He moans "I'm weird."

Zayn's mouth gone dry "Yes- I mean no. Is that why you don't talk to me?"

Harry shrugs. Zayn walks towards him until they're a foot away "I don't want to talk to you 'cos ..." He trails off looking wholly guilty and embarrassed "I have a soulmate."

Zayn blinks. He already knows this because of Louis, but he doesn't know why that matters. Zayn bites his lips as his eyes wanders to Harry's wrist and sure enough his tattoo was glowing red.

Harry raises up his wrist in confusion as if it was the first time he's seeing his tattoo glow. "This is odd. I've never seen my tattoo glow before." He gapes.

Zayn chuckles bitterly, hating the gnawing, twisting feeling he feels in his heart. "Well, I don't know anything about that. I haven't had the luck of finding my soulmate yet." Zayn smiles tiredly as Harry looks away "I might actually never find him."

Something in Harry shifted. His eyes darkens as his mouth sets into a straight line. "Yes, I doubt you will." He says in a strange tone.

Zayn raises his eyebrows, not expecting that kind of answer.

"I'm sorry, it's just that you have a ton of bracelet around your wrist and there's a cover on your tattoo as if you don't even want to find him." He says "Or her." He adds after a long while.

Zayn frowns, and before he could even stop himself, he started unwrapping his covers on his wrist. "I had an incident when I was a kid." He says, removing the accessories and showing Harry his burned, disarray skin . "After a few months of the incident I finally lived with it. I learned to accept it and I wasn't as bitter anymore. Having it burned made me realize something: that people are so crazy to find their match that they don't know how to use their hearts anymore." He looks away "Or maybe I'm just bitter." He shakes his head. He can't believe he just shared that piece of information to someone he barely knows, especially since his burned tattoo is such a sensitive topic for him.

Harry looks at him in wonder.

"So, I'm all right if I never find my soulmate. I made my peace over that fact years ago. Hopefully I'll love the person I'll end up with as much as someone who finds their soulmate will." Zayn shrugs.

Harry blinks, looking at him directly in the eye "I hope the person you end up with will know how lucky they are." He mumbles "And as for your soulmate, I feel so sorry for him. "