𝙵𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝙼𝚎 (𝙽𝚘𝚝) - 𝚉𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚢

chapter xxiii.

"Babe," Zayn smiles soppily and reaches over to grab Harry's hand in his. "There's no need for that. You're my husband, I wouldn't abandon you because of this. Besides, you have done so much of all this yourself."

"I know, but still," Harry insists. "The first few days, I was seriously thinking about not going back home. Sure, I felt like shit because of how sad Sadie looked in the hospital and also because I knew there was Noah as well, who missed me too. I know it's horrible but I considered leaving this life behind and moving onto something else. If it weren't for you, I don't think we'd be here right now. I'm really, really grateful that you took me back as I am, even though I wasn't quite myself, wasn't quite the man you remembered and loved."

"I'd always take you back, no matter what, Harry," Zayn says. His thumb is drawing circles on the back of Harry's hand and Harry's heart is fluttering as if he was a teenager. "I fell in love with you when you were twenty-one. I'm sorry I was distant but it wasn't because of the lack of love I had for you, it was only to make your recovery as smooth as possible. I didn't want to put you into an even more stressful situation. The long-term results were what was important to me. I didn't want you back for a week, I wanted you back forever."

That last sentence, those simple words, nearly make Harry fly off his chair and run around the garden like a madman because fuck if he isn't head over heels in love. "You're honestly perfect, Zayn," Harry beams at him. "Not even joking."

"There's plenty about me that's far from perfect," Zayn chuckles. There's been a silent agreement that it's about time they started eating their food because it's actively getting colder and nastier right in front of them. "But let's keep it poetic and say that we're perfect for each other."

Harry rolls his eyes theatrically. "For goodness' sake, I forgot I was married to an English professor and a writer."

"Alright, touché, but I don't write poetry," Zayn laughs.

"Not even for me?"

"Especially not for you, you're a menace."

Once they're done with dinner, it's quite dark and a bit colder. And that's when Harry pulls out his first surprise.

"Where did you find this?" Zayn laughs as Harry presents him with a blunt instead of dessert. "I didn't think we had any left."

"I believe it's from our anniversary trip," Harry replies and grabs a long lighter from the window sill outside that he used for the candles. "I was going through the bathroom drawers the other day and found it. I hope the weed's not stale. Wait, can it go stale?"

"I think so," Zayn says. "But we don't keep it around for too long so it can't be that old. In a house with two little kids who are way too curious for their own good, it's better to get rid of it quickly."

"You do the honours," Harry passes the long lighter over to Zayn, who gives him a weird look upon seeing it. Harry shrugs unapologetically.

They've moved to the ratan sofa that's on the patio by the time they actually start smoking. Harry has a moment of regret because this only makes him think about uni more but whatever, uni is well in the past. Now he's lighting up not with his pissed friends but with his husband.

"Why did you marry me?" Harry asks after some time of chitchat and reminiscing and joking around. The weed's started to hit him and he's genuinely curious. Enough of his brain-to-mouth filter has been removed.

"What?" Zayn laughs around the smoke, coughing a little. "Why did I marry you?"

"Yeah," Harry shrugs, twisting on the sofa so he can lean one arm on the back of it. "Why'd you marry me? We were young as hell. Still in uni. We hadn't been together for a single year."