Harry Styles is a twenty-four year old who lives and loves the ordinary life. He believes in treating people with kindness and just valuing the small things.
Zayn Malik is a twenty-five year old who has many secrets, one of which is that he is the l...
I quickly put on my shoes, waving a quick goodbye to Mum and Dad as I ran out of the door, nearly stumbling down the stairs. Starting up my car, I rushed to work. I was late, again.
Almost driving head-first into an old lady, I continued to drive as fast as I could, trying to come up with an excuse that I hadn't already used with my boss.
As I entered my workplace, I placed my thumb on the fingerprint scanner. My boss would get notified of every single person that entered the building in one of his Mac books that he had brought just for that purpose, making my hopes of going in unnoticed by him impossible.
I scanned the huge area. Mark Industries was a big name in London, with almost 300 people working their asses off to please their boss, who was quite obviously, named Mark.
Mark was over 60 years old, with some strands of white hair at the back of his head, the rest of it bald. He would always wear a black suit over a checked button down shirt every day, no matter the time or occasion.
As I walked towards my desk, Mark got out of his office, looking directly in front of him as he strode over to me. When I first started working here, my office was located right at the back, which was great for situations like this. But since my promotion, my desk has been shifted to the ones right in front of Mark's personal office.
"This is the fifth time you're late this month." Mark said, pushing his glasses up his nose.
Oh no, he's been counting.
"I can explain." I spoke.
"Okay. Explain." He said, shoving his hands inside the pockets of his pants as he impatiently tapped his foot on the floor.
"James Corden dressed up as a yellow bird and started dancing in the center of the road. Then some man in the back wearing orange sunglasses and pants pulled up to his titties started singing about watermelons and people dressed as watermelons started doing ballet and blocked the traffic."
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"This is your last chance, Harry." Mark huffed, walking away.
"But I'm serious!" I called out, but he ignored me.
The only reason he still deals with my bullshit is because he used to be our neighbor, and being single himself, he had the slightest crush on my mother. Otherwise, I would've been long gone from here. He would even try to ask me how she was every now and then.
After half an hour of typing away on the computer, I dragged my rolling chair to the desk beside me.
The person sitting on the desk, Ray, noticed me approaching and rolled her eyes as far back into her head as humanly possible.
Running her hands through her short blue hair, she tried her best to ignore me, but I, being who I was, started to kick her chair to get her attention.
She hated me. Every bit of me. But that was why I loved annoying her in the first place.
Also. I once showed up to her house with a fresh picked bouquet of sunflowers while she was with her girlfriend, to say sorry for irritating her. Turns out, she was highly allergic to pollen, so Ray has loathed me ever since.
"Harry, it's Monday. You're not supposed to be this happy on a Monday." Ray finally responded.
"But Monday is like the beginning of a new era, the starting of a new week, the hopes of a better time, the perfect time to set your goals, the best opportunity to find your motivation-"
Ray whined, muttering a "what did I do to deserve this" under her breath.
"What do you want?" She finally asked.
I laughed cheekily, pointing to her black-painted nails.
"Your nail paint is super cute." I gave her a cheeky smile.
Ray pursed her lips, deciding on whether she should punch me or not, but thankfully, she decided against it.
She rummaged through her backpack, glaring at me as she did it.
Finally, she pulled out her black nail paint from inside the mountain of papers and pens inside her backpack, shoving it inside my hands.
"Thank you, Ray!" I exclaimed, smiling happily and giving her a hug, on which she stiffened, and then giving her a kiss on the cheek, on which she groaned in disgust and pushed me away, flipping me off in the process.
As I got back to my desk, I grinned happily at the nail paint, going to the restroom to secretly apply it onto my own nails and then acting like I was a model as I posed in front of the large washroom mirror.
The work day passed by pretty quickly, as I enjoyed my job even though some might describe it as downright boring. I headed back home, admiring my nails as I drove.
I walked into my room, going into the bathroom to change into more comfortable clothes. Coming back out, I saw Zayn sitting in the centre of the bed with his legs crossed, holding a photo frame.
He didn't even notice my presence because of how lost he was in the picture, his eyes filled with tears.
My heart dropped when I came to stand behind him, coming to know that the picture which he was holding was of him and his mother. Zayn looked to be around 10, with his arms wrapped around his mother's torso as they smiled at the camera.
I sat behind him on the bed and tapped his shoulder. Zayn flinched before turning around, his breathing getting even heavier when he saw me.
He started wiping his tears with the sleeve of his shirt, an attempt to hide the fact that he was crying.
"W-What are you doing h-here?" He said, his voice barely loud enough for me to hear.
"Are you okay?" I asked. It was pretty obvious that he wasn't okay, but that seemed like the only thing I could think of saying right now.
"I'm fine." He spoke, setting the photo of him and his Mum facing down.
"You really don't seem-"
"Harry, I'm fine." He said, shutting his eyes as more tears fell from underneath his lashes.
I moved over to hug him, to which he first stiffened, but later hugged back, digging his face into the crook of my neck.
"I hate crying in front of people." He mumbled, but continued to sniffle.
"Well I'm always crying in front of people." I sighed.
"That's because you're a crybaby."
He was speaking so softly, I wanted to squeeze his cheeks and kiss him until- No. No, let's not kiss anyone right now.
"There's nothing wrong with people showing some emotions. Atleast I'm not cold-hearted, unlike you."
"I hate you." Zayn whispered, his crying dying down rather quickly.
"I could seriously punch you right now-"
"But you wouldn't." He pulled away, smiling even though he looked like an emotional wreck.
"You're right, I wouldn't." I smiled.
"Thank you Harry." Zayn spoke, pulling his knees up to his chest.
I thought I'd simply tell him that he's welcome, but actions speak louder than words, so I leaned forward to kiss him, in the hopes that he'll feel better.
"Guys look at-" Doniya bursted through the door, just as my lips touched Zayn's.
~
I'm so sorry for the delay, I should really be more regular with updating and all :/
I've got something in the next chapter for all of you ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
