This Thing Upon Me [Order The eBook] [Harry Styles]

Chapter 55***

"What...the...f—"

"It's really weird, innit?"

"Z? Mate...I-"

"I know...I've got boobs, yeah?" He shook them a little. He was fully dressed, but remained barefoot because apparently the heels hurt his toes. I glanced down at his feet and his stockinged toes curled up against the coldness of the uncarpeted floors.

"Would youh say something?!" he snapped, growing uncomfortable with my unflinching stare. Now I was grinning uncontrollably.

"Mate...you look...you look...actually beautiful..."

"Get the f—k outta here, Haz—"

"No, seriously!" I said, stopping him from shutting the door. I shoved my way into the room and closed the door behind us. Now I marveled at the person before me like we'd never met. His figure was accentuated to a fault. He was wearing a pale collared shirt that had been tucked into a skin-tight pencil skirt, and a full face of make-up. For a finishing touch, his clean-shaven, fine-boned face was framed dense curls, lending him the look of a total stranger; a woman, to be exact.

"You're completely unrecognizable. It's actually scary..."

"I'm in drag..."

"Yeah, but how do you feel?"

"I'm in f—kin' drag," he repeated, as though the sentiment alone should account for itself. "It's kinda cool, in like a...learn-a-new-life-perspective sort of way. But it's also, like, really fookin' weird if m'honest." He despaired a little, staring at himself in the full-length mirror across the room. "I just can't get over the boobs. They're quite heavy. I just don't know whether I love 'em or hate 'em."

I could sense he felt conflicted for how far they'd taken the character, and was now second guessing thinking any of it was cool. If I knew anything, it's that Zayn was sensitive. He'd already been teased relentlessly about playing a female by the other boys, and although their jokes had been light-hearted and innocuous, I can tell it had taken a toll on him. He was now in full drag and needed to play the character convincingly in front of hundreds of millions on YouTube and national TV. He would never be able to live it down. It was one hell of a task to take on, and I didn't envy it, but I knew if anyone could handle it, it was him.

"You're gonna smash it, mate. Don't even worry about it."

"If youh say soh."

"I know so. Would you rather be a sleeze-ball exec or something? Have you even seen Niall or Lou?" I asked. "Lou has so much f—king hair on his arms and chest I don't think I'll be able to eat around him until he takes it all off. It's so fooking gross, mate. I feel like I can smell him." At that Z released a reluctant chuckle, pinning and unpinning his loose curls in the mirror with a satin ribbon.

"Youh think I should wear it up like this?" It was such an adorable question and exhibited so much vulnerability it gave me butterflies.

"Up is good..." I said softly, approaching him from behind. "Or down. I like it either way." I pressed up behind and took advantage of the fact that his arms were up. I ran my hands up his belly and grabbed his boobs, making him double over with laughter.

"Haz, f—k off, seriously..."

"You're so f—king gorgeous...c'mere..." I made grabby hands, pinching at his bum to which he busted again. Something was being awakened in me at the sight of him like this. I couldn't understand what I was feeling. It's not that I liked men in drag, but there was something about him as a woman that was sending me. It was all to do with Z. And I liked the idea of thinking he was someone else for a minute. Someone new I could discover all over again. A Zayn-woman, created all for me and my tireless purist of getting inside of him (both figuratively and quite literally.) A figment of my twisted imagination.