I promptly went back to the guest house and took a freezing cold shower, still completely plagued with many, many intrusive thoughts of Zayn and the night before.
I kept thinking about how much fun I had with him and I was stuck on it, stuck on how Zayn actually let me sleep there in his bed beside him throughout the night without ever asking me to leave, without sleeping in one of the guest room beds nearby or on the bean bag chair, even. I mean, there were plenty of other spaces for Zayn to sleep if he wanted to, but he stayed there sharing his bed with me instead.
And I couldn't help but think about what that meant, if it even meant something. Perhaps it just meant that he was comfortable enough with me, that he felt as though were close enough, close enough and comfortable enough to get almost completely undressed with me right there, in fact. But was that even considered normal for just two friends?
I didn't know exactly how Zayn operated in his friendships, but what I did know was that I personally never had a sleepover with any of my mates, not since we were kids and we definitely wore pajamas.
And nobody ever woke up with a raging hard on, either. And now that I was recalling just how massive and stiff his cock was tenting under his briefs. Damn if it had shifted just a little it might have even poked right through the flap and I could have seen how big and beautiful I'm sure his dick was. So I found myself jerking off in the shower to him, yet again.
Maybe it all meant something or maybe I was just overthinking.
Satisfied again after I came twice, I smiled as I exited the shower, my cock hanging low as it swung between my legs. And I felt pretty good, and especially about my new tattoos and feeling even better knowing that I'd always keep the first memory of getting tattooed with Zayn. Perhaps it was natural tendency of mine to be rather nostalgic about certain things in my life, but something about the way last night felt with him was special to me.
But what I really needed to do next was go for a run.
Working out and playing football were the two things that always helped me clear my head whenever there was too much going on inside of it, and after all those thoughts bashing around in my head like a boxing match, I really needed to find a way to chill out on this massive crush I had on Zayn that was only ever growing, before it drove me completely mad.
So I decided to get dressed afterward in a pair of black running shorts, a long white tank top and my orange Nikes. Then I proceeded to enter the house and made one of those detox smoothies that Zayn had procured for me in the kitchen the weekend before. I stood outside on the patio drinking it down under the increasingly humid summer sun when I felt a presence creep up behind me and cover my eyes with cold hands.
"Guess who!?" Adrienne exclaimed in a chipper voice.
"Ahh your hands are fucking freezing! But it feels good actually."
Adrienne laughed shortly. "Sorry, I was down in the freezer earlier grabbing some steak to thaw out for family dinner tonight. So...how are you?"
"Sto bene," I replied as she moved out from behind and hopped around to face me.
"Trying to perfect your Italian?"
"I'm slowly working on it."
She smiled at me and was glowing in this particular kind of way that I hadn't seen before, like she was radiating pure joy from her pores. It looked nice on her. "Gio let me go early today and I've got a whole day of nothing. You want to hang out?"
I nodded. "Yeah sure. I'm going for a run if you want to come along."
She then looked at me as if I had suddenly turned into Medusa. "A run? In this heat? You're a lunatic."
"Yeah I know, I get that a lot. But I like running, it's therapeutic," I explained as I finished off my smoothie.
Adrienne placed her hands on her hips, donning her pink belly shirt and those usual short shorts again, but I wasn't staring at her like that anymore. "Okay well how about a brisk jog or perhaps a speed walk?" she attempted to reason.
I thought about it and decided maybe having some company along the way and a bit of random conversation would be nice, so I compromised. "Alright, deal."
* * * * *
We didn't speed walk or briskly jog, though; we straight up walked, as per Adrienne's request, but I didn't mind. Exercise was exercise. Plus, the Chianti mountains in the province of Florence were the perfect place to just stroll through with its lush green hills of the vineyard itself, numerous cypresses and olive trees, and just overall a peaceful, serene energy. The Chianti region wasn't just known for its viticulture, however, it was also a place with rich history characterized by Romanesque churches and fortified Medieval castles.
It was breathtaking to look at a perfect view.
Her and I must have walked nearly two metric miles while casually chatting away about work before we were both starting to drip with sweat, so we chose to stop on the side of the road and take a water break under a large, shady tree in the tumbling field of grass.
I swiftly plopped down on the ground and extended my long, tanned legs in front of me, stretching as I turned to her and decided to inquire about her night. "So tell me. How did things end up going with Marco?"
Adrienne couldn't stop stop smiling when I mentioned his name. "Oh God, Harry. It was amazing, actually. I feel like...like we were completely blind to our chemistry for some reason before last night. Everything just feels so right with him."
She made me smile, too. "I have to admit, you guys really looked like a couple who's been together forever."
She sighed with another lazy smile on her glossed lips, but her eyes remained lit up with complete adoration. "Maybe it's because we have been friends? Like, falling for someone you already know is a whole different experience, I feel. All the weird strangers getting to know each other awkwardness isn't there with him. I like that."
Shit, I had been doing so well with not thinking about Zayn too much that whole time up until then and now there I was, thinking about him again when Adrienne mentioned falling for someone you already know.
Fuck. Was I falling?
Maybe there was already some connection there, perhaps hidden and buried unknowingly, but still there. And I wasn't quite so sure if that was it, but I considered how maybe that could have possibly been one of the reasons why all the girls I ever thought I liked before now never kept my interest much.
Somehow it always ended just as fast as it started, almost like it was already over before it began.
"So are you dating now?" I asked Adrienne after taking a sip of water from my green water jug I had been carrying with me.
"Yeah," she beamed with this childlike aura.
"I'm so happy for you," I replied earnestly. "Marco seems like such a great guy. I liked him the very second I met him."
"Thanks, Harry. He really is the cutest. Okay now your turn. Tell me what happened to you and Zayn after the club? You both just completely left out of nowhere last night," Adrienne spoke back, changing the subject.
Well, so much for ridding my mind of Zayn.
I cleared my throat just then and tried to keep myself from smiling while thinking about it. "Oh yeah, I sort of ditched Isabella and we went back to the house. And then Zayn gave me some tattoos," I capriciously answered.
Her eyes widened, astonished. "He what!? You let him tattoo you!?"
I nodded, laughing a bit. "Yeah. It's just this small A and then something ridiculous," I pointed out, showing her my arm.
"Ridiculous like..." Adrienne went on.
I chuckled. "He, uh, tattooed BIG on my big toe."
Adrienne's laughter fell out right away, practically doubling over and filling the space around us with her incessant giggling. "Wait, so Zayn really gave you a foot tattoo? What the hell did you do to him?"
"He was willing! I swear, believe it or not. And I was just as surprised as you are that he didn't go running for the hills!" I exclaimed, laughing in unison.
She shook her head in disbelief and leaned leisurely against the bark of the tree where we sat.
"Then we just watched Goodfellas and kinda passed out," I continued with a shrug.
Adrienne then had this wry grin on her face. "And you slept together?"
"Well we didn't sleep together," I retaliated in an attempt to correct her with a slight case of nerves. "I mean we did but not like that."
Adrienne smirked again with this knowing look and it was starting to put me off, like I was completely transparent all of a sudden like a window and she could see right through me. I felt myself growing uneasy, shifting on the tufts of grass and glanced over at her.
"Why are you smiling like that...?"
"Oh, nothing..."
I raised an eyebrow. Nope, I wasn't buying it. "No it's not nothing. Tell me," I insisted.
She paused for a moment before replying. "I think he likes you."
I froze where I sat, repeating the words she spoke over and over again in my mind. He couldn't like me, not like that. Could he? Was it possible that he could be...? It was the one thing I hadn't expected to hear but hoped for and dreamed about, but I wasn't about to let me get ahead of myself, either. I had to be sure that I wasn't taking this the wrong way.
"What? Like...how?"
Adrienne rolled her eyes subtly. "You know."
My heart was starting to beat faster and the air suddenly felt much heavier. "Like as in...in a romantic way?"
"Probably."
"Wait so...Zayn's into guys?"
"Yes."
I couldn't even believe what I was hearing. My mind started racing around, recalling every moment, every conversation we had over the past few weeks, all of the back and forth banter between us just like...like he had been flirting with me. Had he been? I was still perplexed, even with this notion, because there were still those questions; why did he freak out in the field then when I got aroused? If he was into me then why wasn't he making a move?
Maybe he really is just shy.
"But don't tell anyone, okay? Not a lot of people know about it. Only me and Marco know. I think Gio suspects it but Zayn never actually told him," Adrienne went on to explain quickly, as if she had just let out a secret she wasn't supposed to tell and was now bugging out.
"I won't. So...he told you and Marco this? When?"
"Well, he told me last summer when he was a bit drunk and I told Marco in confidence. But like, I don't actually know if he's into you in that way, it just seems like it but please don't let it ruin your friendship. I'm just speculating so don't freak out, okay? Please."
Last summer. So it wasn't a recent revelation, it wasn't some new discovery of his after having seen me again. No, this was how Zayn felt this whole time; his attraction to men was a thing. And somehow I liked knowing that much better because Zayn was probably more experienced with this than I was and that's exactly what I wanted and needed.
If he was into me, that is. And if anything were to happen, which I was now heavily praying to God for just that. But I could also tell that Adrienne seemed worried about unveiling this information to me and I knew it was because she didn't know how I would take it. Because she didn't know about me. So I decided to make her aware.
"I'm definitely not freaking out, believe me."
Adrienne stopped and stared at me. "Why? Oh...wait..."
My cheeks deepened into a rosy hue. I couldn't control my tendency to blush even if I tried.
"You have a thing for Zayn too," she remarked, her lips spreading into a warm smile.
"I...uh...I mean..."
"You do! It's written all over your face!" Adrienne exclaimed, swatting me in the arm.
"Yeah okay, okay. I'll admit it. But...I've never actually been with a guy before."
"Well I am pretty sure Zayn has but that doesn't matter, does it? There's always a first time for everything," she returned, suddenly turning quite bubbly. "Ahh! You like each other! This is so cute!"
"Stoooop," I whined, shoving her a little.
I had never felt like this before. Soft and vulnerable. At least not for anyone, certainly not romantically, and I definitely didn't know how to take it all, either. It felt slightly overwhelming to me just knowing that he could feel the same way to some extent. And it was kind of nerve-wracking, actually. I just knew that despite how warm and fuzzy everything inside of me felt then, I couldn't let it all take over and turn me into some pathetic, sappy pile of mush.
I still had some dignity, right?
"You have to do something," she insisted next.
"What do you mean by do something? exactly," I inquired.
"Make a move, of course! Maybe you should just like, kiss him randomly and see what happens. See what he does. I bet he kisses you back," she cooed with a wide smile.
But as much as that sounded just like what I wanted to do to Zayn, I still wasn't totally convinced that he was into me. "Okay and what if you're wrong and he doesn't like me like that? I'm no good with rejection."
I actually hadn't been rejected before, come to think of it.
"Just do it. I'm pretty sure I'm not wrong," Adrienne responded confidently.
Just do it.
* * * * *
So in my attempt at trying not to think about Zayn, it only resulted in me thinking about him even more now that I knew what I knew about him. And I couldn't stop my mind at this point; it was running on overdrive. Everything about Zayn was so enchanting to me, so fascinating and perplexing, enigmatic and this maddening desire I had to be closer to him was intensifying with every passing moment as I got back to the compound.
All I wanted was for him to like me back and just knowing that it might even be true was giving me this incredible feeling of hope and all those dreams I was having felt realer, maybe even obtainable. It started to feel like the sun was a bit brighter, the air lighter, and as I walked across the dewy lawn from where the sprinklers were turned on, there was probably a pep in my step because I felt it.
It was sort of like I was some 13 year old school girl in the back of my mind to be honest and perhaps it was a little bit embarrassing for me, but I wasn't sure if I even cared.
So much for dignity.
But I just wanted to know more. I had to know. If he was into me, then why was he was hesitating? Maybe Zayn really was just timid and paced after all, and maybe he was counting on me to be the more forward one in the situation. Or maybe I was just too impatient? Either way, I reminded myself that I only had this chance with Zayn for the summer.
And I didn't want to wait around anymore; just wasting time.
So I made my way to the open garage where I saw Zayn kneeling down on the concrete in a baggier fit pair of ripped jeans and a black tank top with a long scoop neck, exposing his chest tattoos, and I could see down his shirt enough to view his entire torso. I swallowed hard to myself at the sight of him, focusing on the way his muscles flexed whenever he concentrated and the way he bit down on his bottom lip as his dark brows narrowed.
I watched him fiddle around with some art tools that came from a wooden box, grabbing a long, silver hook-like tool and he got up from his knees, moving back toward the high, wooden table where sat a work in progress clay sculpture that resembled an arm and the open palm of a hand.
"Hey," I greeted him casually, sauntering into his work space.
"Hey."
I stood beside Zayn, closer than I normally would, leaning in subtly and catching a whiff of some scent and he smelt so good. "So is this your newest sculpture you've been working on?"
He cleared his throat. "Yeah. But I'm starting to think I may have been a little too ambitious though. I'm struggling with the hand a bit."
But the hand looked good. Perfect, really. Zayn was certainly a perfectionist and it showed. "I think it looks amazing," I replied and watched as he smiled to himself.
I then noticed he was working on a smaller part of his sculpture, his hands covered in wet clay as he began dragging his fingertips along the recently crafted piece, pinching at the sculpted petals of his creation.
"Is that a flower you're making?" I asked.
"The start of one, yeah. A lotus."
"Cool. So, why a lotus? Does it mean anything specific?"
Zayn spoke to me as he smoothed out the edges. "Resilience. A lotus flower can still grow and thrive through wretched conditions, like mud and polluted water. Lotuses can even purify the water they live in, so basically its strength is what makes the lotus sacred in different cultures."
"That's interesting."
He shot me a questionable look, raising one eyebrow slightly. "Is that sarcasm, yeah?"
I shook my head. "No, it's not. I genuinely mean that."
"Okay...well, that's sort of the message behind this piece then I guess. Holding onto resilience and being able to bloom even in shit conditions," he explained, taking a step back to gaze upon his work.
I watched him do so, realizing how entirely invested he was in everything he did and smiled at how deep and thoughtful of a person Zayn truly seemed to be, and how he attributed feelings and real life struggles into such beautiful analogies in his art.
I admired him for that.
"I think that's a pretty inspiring message and if I saw this sculpture in some art auction I'd definitely bid on it," I commented, leaning in closer to observe all the intricacies.
"Yeah? And how much do you think it's worth?"
"Hmm...is this a trick question?"
"Maybe," he replied smugly.
I flashed him a cheeky grin. "Well...all I know is that Michaelangelo's been real quiet lately."
Zayn laughed. "Good answer, that."
I just stared back at him, wondering if I even had the guts to lean in and kiss him then and there. Everything inside of me was screaming to do it, just do it, but I was still holding back and I didn't know why. I was never the type of person to hesitate before. Zayn eventually met my gaze and I swore it was a moment because it felt like everything stood still.
But nobody moved.
So I decided to think of a new plan for that night on the cuff because I had to make the moment come alive. I had to prepare for it and I wasn't going to back down; I couldn't. I just had to know if there was something there. Something between us just had to exist.
It just had to.
"So I actually came here to ask if you were going to be around later tonight. I was hoping you'd be down to teach me the chords to Tupelo Honey. Ive been wanting to learn more guitar, and since you're pretty good maybe you could show me some things so I don't completely suck."
I knew I didn't actually suck at guitar, but I also didn't know what else to say and I needed an excuse to hang out with him. Plus, I was a sucker for his singing voice and I wanted to hear it again.
"Sure, but you aren't even that bad. I'm sure you suck more at other things," he remarked, turning away from me slightly to grab another sculpting tool, and I thought I had seen him smirking.
* * * * *
Zayn was supposed to meet me out on the back patio once the sun had set that night. I had previously taken it upon myself to set the mood by lighting the fire already, ensuring the ambiance was just right, which I paired with a bottle of their house wine and two large wine glasses set on the stone ledge. I lounged lazily against the back cushion of the wicker patio sofa in my cut off jean shorts and a faded Elvis Presley t-shirt, one leg bent and crossed over my knee.
I was already on my third glass by the time Zayn finally emerged in a comfortable looking pair of red gym shorts, the same black tank top from earlier paired with a long silver chain necklace, two acoustic guitars in either hand, an unlit cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth and a joint tucked behind his ear.
God, there was something especially sexy about that late night, disheveled lazy look of Zayn's. It's like he didn't even have to try to look good; it was automatic all the time.
And I was now completely sure that someone had to make a move tonight or else I'd die.
Zayn then strolled over and handed me one of the acoustic guitars before taking a seat beside me on the patio sofa, leaning forward to light the end of his cigarette from a high flame of the fire.
"I see you already got the fire going and everything," he commented lowly, blowing a cloud of smoke out into the summer night sky.
"Very observant," I teased as I bent forward and handed Zayn the other filled wine glass that was sitting before us on the ledge of the built in stone fire pit.
Zayn gulped down a hefty sip. "You're being awfully kind right now...should I be concerned?"
"Thought you said I had to make it up to you," I replied warmly, smiling into my wine glass as I took another long sip.
I'm flirting with you, Zayn. Pick up on it for fuck's sake.
Zayn chuckled slightly as he leaned forward and started to strum a few random chords on the guitar, staring into the flames. "I did say that, you're right."
"Is it working yet?" I questioned, giving him a specific look, one with intent as my eyes danced around his facial features in the glow of the firelight.
"Maybe..." he trailed off, quickly looking away.
Why was Zayn so fucking frustrating? I was really trying and I wanted to be obvious without coming on too strong but damn, I wanted him to look at me, to stay there and fixate on my eyes, to throw the guitar down and just grab my face with his hands. Impatient, I know, and maybe a little wine tipsy, but there was that heavy energy between us again, the one I constantly felt around him and I knew exactly what it was this time.
This unspoken sexual tension.
"Okay so the first chord is B flat," he then spoke, looking back at me but his brown eyes were cast down at my guitar neck, watching my fingers move to mimic him.
I copied his note.
"Good, then it goes into D minor," Zayn continued to explain as he strummed the next chord, which I returned.
"Then E flat, then back to B flat."
As he showed me the rest of the chord progression I got it down rather quickly, which I knew I would because I was a quick study and wasn't completely wasted like the last time that I tried to play. The notes rang out into the summer night as the chords repeated and blended together smoothly while we played side by side. Then he started singing and I chimed in, our voices melting together in this perfect harmony.
"She's as sweet as Tupelo honey. She's an angel of the first degree. She's as sweet as Tupelo honey, just like honey from the bee. You can't stop us on the road to freedom, you can't keep us cause our eyes can see. Men with insight, men in granite, knights in armor bent on chivalry."
Zayn stopped playing abruptly and finished off his wine glass, smiling softly. "Damn, look at you. You know exactly what you're doing. And you said you sucked...you liar."
I shrugged in a non-chalant manner, petting his ego on purpose. "You make an alright teacher I suppose."
He scoffed. "Fuck no, it's not me. You picked that up so fast. Looks like music comes naturally to you."
"Well I think we sound pretty great together as well," I commented while giving him that look again.
Zayn then coughed and took the joint out from behind his ear, lighting it up with a lighter from his pocket. "Yeah...I think so too."
There it was again; that heavy energy, that tension intensifying. And I just knew that Zayn could sense it too because I could see it in his eyes when he looked at me next. There was a softness that fell upon him and it seemed as though he was going to say something, and I felt my heart beat start to quicken in anticipation.
But he just coughed again and took another drag, offering the joint to me. "Do you know Ray Lamontagne?"
I groaned internally at yet another missed opportunity for him and took the joint from Zayn, inhaling as I tried to recall this particular artist but I couldn't exactly place what his music sounded like. "I think I've heard of him, but I don't know any songs off the top of my head."
I handed him back the joint afterward, which he toked on and then snubbed out on the stone ledge. And then Zayn then started to play another song on guitar with this beautiful, sweet melody that instantly captivated me in a way that I couldn't explain. I was completely mesmerized by him, by the song, by the lyrics, by the way he sang the words from his soul and his voice dripped like velvet and wrapped me in this blanket of warmth that could have rivaled the summer sun when it just dawned in.
"Can I stay here with you till the morning? I am so far from home and I feel a little stoned. Can I stay here till the morning? There's nothing I want more than to wake up on your floor. Lay with me in your thinnest dress, fill my heart with each caress. Between your blissful kisses whisper darling is this love?"
I was completely and totally gazing at Zayn at that point, as if he was the sweetest creature I had ever seen and didn't even hide it; I couldn't. It was useless. My entire body just felt magnetized, drawn to him and to that moment in time. It almost felt like it was straight out of a film, a movie scene, and I was right there, basking in the gentle, soothing words and yet within its tenderness there was so much strength.
Like a force of nature.
And he finally looked up from the floor where he was staring as he sang and locked into my gaze, finally fixating on my eyes and Zayn didn't look away from me this time. It was warm before, but now everything was getting much warmer. The air turned hot like a thousand scorching suns when he looked at me, like he could see straight into my soul and I forgot how to breathe.
This was the moment.
Zayn stopped singing in the midst of his guitar playing but kept on as I started to boldly move closer, creeping my way closer to him. The cocoon in my chest burst open and dozens of butterflies were released, bashing their wings against my rib cage as it all occurred in what felt like slow motion.
And then the song stopped and he stopped, ploddingly licking his lips and I saw Zayn leaning his head in closer to mine at the same time while all the world stopped. I swallowed hard once more, feeling every fiber in my body tingle as we drew closer still until our lips were centimeters apart and I felt Zayn's breath on my mouth, giving me life.
Then it happened. My lips pressed against his with this careful ease; soft, supple and just a bit wet. A low hum escaped from somewhere inside my throat, signifying that the desire to know had been confirmed with a release of relief and our lips stayed connected for awhile as I moved mine on his with more urgency, wanting to taste more.
Zayn followed my move and opened his mouth slightly, drawing my lips in closer and I felt myself smile subtly into the kiss as his tattooed hand reached out and cupped my jawline, applying just enough force to intensify the kiss and I fell right into it. My mouth opened a bit wider and his wet, pink tongue slipped inside me, gently swirling against my own tongue as I moaned softly again, feeling weakened by him.
I had never experienced a kiss like that one ever before. It was both firm and soft, only becoming deeper as our lips swelled and moved together rhythmically in this sensual pattern and I could feel my immediate arousal; aching, wanting more of him. So I let more of Zayn in and I searched his mouth with my tongue, massaging it with a buried passion I pulled out from deep inside of me and my hands started to naturally gravitate towards his hips.
But what I wasn't quite expecting was for Zayn to break free and slowly pull away.
"Fuck," he muttered with confliction and breathed out, appearing nervous as he shut his eyes tight.
I was so bloody confused as to why he stopped when it was just getting good.
"W-what's wrong?"
Zayn opened his eyes then and I noticed that they looked sad. "Harry..."
"Yeah?"
Zayn sighed gruffly and scooted farther away from me. "I...shit. I can't do this."
"Oh..."
I could feel all the blood drain from my body right away with this harsh anxiety crippling my bones when he spoke. My mind was laced in utter confusion, frozen and suddenly cold as I sat there, blankly staring back at him.
He sighed again and I could tell there was something on his mind that he wasn't saying.
"Okay...so you aren't into me like that? I thought..." I tried to explain, feeling stupid and embarrassed and wondered why the hell he even bothered to kiss me back like he wanted it when he clearly fucking didn't, or couldn't, rather.
Whatever the hell that even meant.
"No, it's not that," Zayn responded with this frustration in his voice. "I just...I need to go."
I had never in my life felt like that before either; hurt.
"You need to go? Why?" I asked, suddenly feeling annoyed in addition to being so fucking confused.
"Yeah. I'm really sorry for doing this to you right now but I just have to," Zayn spoke out as he briskly got up from the sofa and left the guitar in his place, walking off the patio and back inside the house, the door shutting hard behind him.
And he just left me there, all alone.