My fingers stroke his scalp as he sleeps, his coal black hair becoming a tousled mess.

My body feels a dull ache for him. I crave closeness. I want to immerse myself in his touch and skim his skin with my lips.

Is it possible to miss someone when they're lying right beside you? Because he's in my arms but the space between us is still too much, leaving me empty.

The space feels like bullet holes.

He's all lashes and cheekbones; a full soft mouth I could kiss until the end of time, just to fill those spots.

There's nothing to do but listen to the soothing sound of the rain. So I do.

And I pull him closer, feeling the outline of his ribs like wings beneath his skin.

His eyelids flutter open and he smiles at me.

My heart is fleeting.

"Hope I wasn't asleep long," he says groggily. He rubs at his eyes wearily and I laugh, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

It's happening.

So fast and so hard I'm plummeting towards the ground. Gravity doesn't have to do anything.

I sit up suddenly, glancing at the ticking clock on the wall.

Shit.

"Zayn, I should get going," I whisper.

"Wait."

He sounds anguished.

"There's just one thing," he murmurs.

"What would that be?"

"Kiss me in the rain."

I want to laugh at the sappy proposal but deep down I know I want it just as bad as him.

The rain soaks our clothes and drenches my hair. It's frigid cold and I shiver but his warm thumbs swipe across my cheeks and trail down my neck. He lets his lips rest there and his teeth mark up my skin, before his tongue flicks over the assaulted flesh.

the thoughts

in my head

flow steadily

like a stream

but my heart

babbles

like a brook

As cold as the downpour is, it's my heart that shivers.

Again and again and again.

His hands fist in my thick coils and he sighs into my mouth, like he's never been so content in his life and fuck it's beautiful. His tongue curls around mine and I try to make sense of it all.

i've never understood

the language

of love,

he says he would

teach me

but he can't

quite put it

into words

He kisses me until I'm delirious and can't remember my name.

It's something with an H but I can't quite grasp it.

Despite all the oxygen in the world, I can't seem to muster any breath.

My thoughts are incoherent and he knows

he's

u

n

r

a

v

e

l

l

i

n

g

m

e

His knuckles graze over my jaw and it's everything.

Now is breath is hot and

s

t

a

g

g

e

r

d,

his tongue promising things.

He pulls away, his pink lips tugging upward...so soft and so pastel they look like a new eraser.

I sigh so his head dips again, his tongue gliding over my collarbone.

"Your lips part so beautifully Harry."

My cheeks flush so he presses a quick kiss there too.

"I love when I steal your breath and you heave, like you just awoke from a deep slumber."

"You're a thief. Thief! Thief!"

He clamps his hand over my mouth, partly muffling my giggles.

"deep crimson cheeks

and emerald eyes;

cherry red lips

and chocolate curls;

go ahead my love,

call me a thief"

"Stealing my breath and capturing my lips isn't the crime."

"What is my crime?"

"Stealing my heart."

...

"Hi Harry."

"How'd you get in?"

"You still hide your key under that rock. Thanks for the ride by the way."

"Sam, I'm sorry-"

"Whatever," he rolls her eyes and picks at her fingernails. "Why are you wet?"

"It's raining."

"Thanks Sherlock."

"You asked."

"So do you want me or not?"

I'm no Saint but she'll spread her legs for anyone.

And she doesn't have olive skin and eyes that can melt the entire world. She isn't the one I want. I could never truly love her. This a space in my heart reserved just for Jace.

Her kisses never make me dizzy.

so damn dizzy,

four pints

on an empty stomach

dizzy

ferris wheels

and carousels

dizzy;

what i would give

to steady

my dizzy heart

It glides off my tongue so easily. "No."

"Excuse me?"

"I don't want you Sam. I'm convinced my heart never wanted you and I'm sorry for that."

when our hearts

collide

it's just like

being struck

by someone's fist

or gazing

at the sun

too long

when our lips

collide

i'm not

just tasting

but drinking

you in;

downing you

like it's

the end

of the world

when our thoughts

collide

my lungs

expand,

my body

exploding

and my stomach

clenching

Collide.

c o l l i d e

...

"Where's Mr. Malik?"

My mind jumps to conclusions: we're caught, I got him sick, he doesn't want to see me.

Our substitute has fiery red hair and a voice I would listen to if I ever needed to unwind. He introduces himself as Ed and informs us that Zayn's mum has fallen very ill and that he's visiting her in the hospital.

The news is bittersweet. He is still my secret but I don't know how I'll comfort him about his mum.

Ed seems like someone Zayn would hang out with outside of school, to catch a concert or grab a beer. He cracks several jokes and tells us to read a few short poems and complete the short answer questions at the end of the passages.

I really like the guy but he's no Zayn.

"Does he usually let you guys listen to music?"

"Yeah, his Spotify should be up. He always forgets to log out."

"You must be Harry," he smiles.

"Pardon?"

"He wrote a quick note saying to keep an eye on the curly haired lad."

I just smirk and shrug nonchalantly. "I can be a pain in the ass."

He just chuckles and clicks the play button. Redbone by Childish Gambino trickles through the overhead speakers.

Sometimes it's Rubber Band by Bootsy or something by Prince. There's old school Run D.M.C. and laid-back Gregory Isaacs. We always give him shit for it and tell him he might as well light a joint in class. He gets pissy and switches it to classic R&B or Chance the Rapper. We all groan in unison if Michael Jackson comes on and he lectures us about real music. It's odd, an English teacher listening to soulful music, throwback rap and reggae but then again Zayn has a lot of soul.

Too late

You wanna make it right, but now it's too late

My peanut butter chocolate cake with Kool-Aid

I'm trying not to waste my time

"Hey," Liam nudges me with his elbow so I lean in towards his desk.

"What's up?"

"Can you explain that?" He points to an essay in my notebook with a red A circled at the top. "He even wrote magnificent in the margin."

"I just started trying harder, I'm not stupid you know."

He looks jealous for a split second but then pats my back reassuringly.

"I'm glad Harry, you're very smart." He sprawls something in his paper and looks back up at me. "And if I'm not mistaken, Mr. Malik doesn't seem to hate you as much."

"You know Liam, I'm starting to get that feeling."