shelter {zs}

(7) your eyes tell

Zayn's palms were sweaty and his skin felt like it was on fire. Harry had rested his head on top of his chest clueless. The colourful light of the tv was casting patterns on the pale white duvet they had over them.

This was normal, Harry liked to cuddle a lot, and more times that Zayn would admit, he was the sole victim of his cuddles. Today was a no different day.

He let out a shuddered breath when he felt Harry's breath on his cheek and his thigh moved up, gracing Zayn's area. Zayn shifted to adjust both of them better.

He knew what Harry was doing, he was trying to get a raise out of him, he wanted Zayn to indulge in whatever fucked up thing he was up to but for Harry it might be a fun little hook up but it was a deciding factor of his fate in their family.

If his father even got a whiff of things stirring in Zayn's mind, he'd probably be murdered or worse, kicked out, homeless and he'd also lose Harry.

Harry could never stand up to his father, and Zayn didn't blame him for it.

He remembers a time when Harry's father broke Zayn's leg right in front of Harry. It remembers seeing terrified emerald green eyes shining with tears as his father's baseball bat made contact with Zayn's shin.

Both of them were scared for life, while Zayn's skin was scarred, Harry's mind was scarred.

They both steered clear out of Mr. Styles sight, he knew Harry tried his best to stay out of trouble because Zayn would have to endure the consequences, except he still knew somewhere, Harry wanted to escape.

"I love her outfit." Harry hummed, his chest vibrating with his deep voice. Zayn glanced at Elle Woods on the screen and hummed back in agreement. "Do you think I'd look good in pink?"

"You look good in every color." Zayn blurted his mind out. "I mean sure."

Harry looked up to give him a sly smile, "So you think I'm good-looking."

There was no point in lying, "You know you are."

"Yeah but I want to hear you say it."

Zayn didn't reply just hid his smile.

"Come on." Harry whined, moving his thigh on purpose, "Let me hear it."

"Shut up Harry you're missing the movie."

"Zayn tell me you think I'm beautiful." Harry raised his head from Zayn's chest. "I know you're thinking."

He looked at Harry, his wavy hair falling over his eyes, his eyes shining in the dark, his lips bitten and red. He was fresh from the shower so he smelled like citrus. Zayn forced himself to look away.

"What is wrong with you?" He rolled his eyes, swallowing the lump, "You know you are."

"You're shying away from telling me I'm beautiful?" Harry pouted and Zayn died a little inside, "Or you think I'm ugly. Is Claire prettier than me?"

Zayn huffed, "Shut up."

"No for real, you think Claire is prettier than me right? You think she had big tits and blue eyes and blonde hair and she's prettier than me? I keep telling you how pretty you are and you can't tell me I'm pretty too?" It looked like he was genuinely railing himself up.

"Harry-"

"No." he got up, "Am I not good enough? You want Claire?"

"You're over reacting." Zayn stated, "I think you're beautiful, really gorgeous, I don't think I've seen a prettier guy in my life if I'm being truly honest."