"It isn't fair, it just isn't fair!" Seven year old, Zayn Malik repeated this mantra to himself over and over as he paced up and down his bedroom floor. 

"Pipe down, Zayn! I am trying to read." Harry hissed then turned his attention back to "The Rainbow Fish."

It was pouring outside. No, that was an understatement. It was coming down in torrents outside. Regardless, Zayn didn't understand why both his Daddy and Papa wouldn't let him go outside to the backyard and play? He does vaguely remembers the two saying something about how he would fall ill, something along those lines, but really Zayn believed that the two just didn't want him to have fun. As silly as it sounded, Zayn still believed it. 

You're probably asking yourself, why doesn't the boy just do something else? After all, there had to be something else to keep him preoccupied until the rain subsided. That's the thing, there was absolutely nothing else for the young boy to do. He had filled his sketchbook to the brim and majority of his toys had either been recklessly doodled or nibbled on (all courteous of his ever so lovely brother, Niall). Zayn made a mental note to pester his father's for some new toys. 

"The other fish admired his colorful scales and called him Rainbow Fish." Harry read to himself. He pursed his lips in confusion. "Admired? What does that mean?" 

"Harry," Zayn cunningly sang, climbing on to his bed. "I'm bored." 

The four-year-old fastened his book and shut, slipping it underneath his pillow. He would be sure to ask his Daddy about that word. "Then do something." Harry said, bluntly. 

Zayn resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "We should do something. Together." 

Little by little, Harry was becoming all the more interested. Nowadays, his older brother rarely wanted to play with him and would much rather sit in solitude, aggressively colouring in his beloved sketchbook. So, it came as a complete shock to Harry when Zayn has suggested that the two do something. Together. 

"Okay, what should we do, then?" Harry mused. 

"Let's go outside!" Zayn blurted out, absent-mindedly, if I might add. 

Being the obedient child Harry was, he was quick to object. Incidentally, Harry had heard his parents scolding Zayn loud and clear just earlier this afternoon when he had asked if he could go out to play. "No way! Papa and Daddy won't let us." 

Zayn huffed, his brother never seemed to miss a beat, did he? 

"We'll run outside for a couple of minutes and then sneak back inside." Zayn coaxed. He was defenitely pushing his luck here, but at the point in time, he would do anything to break free from the seclusion of his house. "Daddy and Papa will never be the wiser." 

Harry chewed on the inside of his mouth and furrowed his brow, as if he was in a deep thought. He knew better than to go against his fathers word, but he couldn't lie, the cool rain did look inviting. Plus, this might be the last time that Zayn would opt to play with him, he wasn't going to just chuck that out the window. Well, was he? 

"Fine." Harry finally said. 

Zayn squealed with delight. "Well, we better get going!" 

. . . 

"Look at me, Zayn!" Harry shrieked as he attempted to catch raindrops with his tongue. 

Zayn mirrored Harry's actions, sticking out his tongue and giggling whenever a raindrop so much as brushed passed his face. The pair were having more than fun, they were having the time of their lives. In all honesty, this was better than anything they had done before. Forget that water park they had went to last summer. This was the real deal! 

"I wish we could do this every single day!" Zayn exclaimed, running around the perimeter of thier backyard. 

"Me too!" Harry hollered back, following close behind his brother. "This was a great idea!" 

The two must've lost track of time, because there stood their Daddy on the patio, and he was very angry, indeed. Harry could have almost sworn that he saw clouds of steam drifting out his ears. 

Oh boy, they were definitely in for it. 

. . . 

"What were you boys thinking?" Liam asked, running his hands through his auburn hair. 

Incidentally, the two remained silent. They ddin't know how to answer their father correctly, and they didn't want to anger him further. They had already done enough, after all. As of now, Zayn and Harry were sat on the living room couch, with their Daddy pacing up and down whilst lecturing them. More like barking at them, it was. 

Liam stopped dead in his tracks. Cocking his head to one side, he seethed. "I asked you two a question, did I not?" 

"We just wanted to play outside, Daddy." Zayn furiously whispered. "It wasn't like we did anything bad." 

Liam deeply chuckled, crouching down in front of Zayn. He gazed in to the boys' hazeulnut eyes, slowly shaking his head as he did so. Deeply sighing, Liam diverted attention his second youngest son. "Harry, go ahead and ask Papa for a bath. When you're done come back down. Immediately." 

Zayn looked up at his father, bewildered. So, his brother was off the hook, but he wasn't? "Harry isn't in trouble?" 

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