"Zayn," I whisper.

He looks so content, his cheek creased upon the pillow, his long lashes brushing over his tan skin. His hair is a ruffled mess so I chuckle and reach for my phone on the bedside table, snapping a picture.

My mind takes a mental picture, never wanting to forget the way he looks, so peaceful, his chest slowly rising and falling with each shallow breath. My heart captures the moment, fluttering as he opens his eyes.

"G'morning babe," he mumbles and gives a sheepish smile.

I can't resist the urge to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

"I haven't brushed my teeth," he grumbles.

"And I care because?"

"You're sassy."

I just give a dimpled smile and tug him up out of bed.

"I made cinnamon rolls."

He arches his brows, his nose scrunching as he detects the sweet smell.

"I bake with my mum all the time so I thought I'd make something for you."

He looks very impressed as be bites into a golden brown bun, the icing spilling over the edge. "This is delicious Harry."

"As sweet as me?"

"Almost," he grins. "But not quite."

He brews some coffee and I wrap my arms around him, my head resting on his shoulder.

"I could get used to this."

"Me too. Only if I get to see you in your boxers every morning though."

My cheeks redden and he turns to kiss me, the sweet taste of icing still lingering on his lips.

I chase them hungrily, convinced that it's never enough. We're always too far apart.

but even

when

our bodies

are apart

our hearts

are

always

touching

"Shit Zayn."

"What's wrong love?"

"How am I going to get to school?" He laughs at me, his arms fastening around my waist.

"I'll drive you babe."

"Zayn, you can't just drive me to school. You're my teacher. If someone sees us together they'll get suspicious."

"Lie, lie, deny," he smirks. "Oh woe is me, I had a flat tire."

"I can't believe you're telling me to lie about it," my body shakes with laughter. "So I'm going to say I was having car trouble and you just happened to stumble across me? Likely story."

"Fine," he huffs. "Call one of your crazy mates and have them pick you up."

"You're so stubborn. Maybe I'll say something about my car battery not starting, that sounds more believable."

...

"Harry stop," he exclaims. A fit of giggles overtake me as I change the station back. "Harry I swear!"

"What are you going to do, attack me with your mouth?"

"Don't tempt me. We are not listening to The Rolling Stones in my car."

I poke my tongue out at him as the Red Hot Chili Peppers spurt out the speakers. "Really Zayn?"

"I like this station. Besides, I don't pick the songs. Just shut up and enjoy the music," he snaps.

"Grrr."

He lets out an agitated sigh, running a hand through his hair at a red light. "Sorry. I haven't had a cigarette in ages, makes me on edge."

"Ages, that's such a hyperbole."

"It's so sexy when you use literary terms."

Well, that's new.

"I know a lot of euphemisms," I boast.

"Oh do you?"

"I always say I have a temporary negative cash flow because it's a more refined way of saying I'm broke as fuck."

He looks over at me, a smile splaying on his face. "A certified pre-owned car is literally just a used car but I suppose it doesn't sound as appealing."

"My diction is great too."

"You're cocky today."

"Your class is so boring I want to poke my eyes out. Dick is to diction as cock is to cocky. I'm going to sit in this car."

He frowns, "that bad is it?"

"Just kidding, I want to gouge my eyes out."

"Oof, that's even worse," he slaps at my arm playfully. "Try a simile."

"I'm like a needle

and t h r e a d

sewing myself

back

together

over and over and over again."

He pulls into the faculty lot, a perplexed expression on his face.

"Now I really want to kiss you but I can't."

"Tonight," our eyes meet, his flickering with excitement. My heart is giddy with anticipation. We're beside each other but I'm already planning when we'll be together again.

His fingers brush over my hand for just a moment before he opens the car door and I release a breath I didn't know I was holding in.

"Is where space ends called death or infinity?"

This spurs a twenty minute debate in class but I just smile to myself, noting again just how much Zayn admires Pablo Neruda.

the space

between us

punctures

my heart,

feels

a light-year

away

but

i don't

have

that

much

t i m e

"Meraki," my head pops up, my eyes searching his before he turns to write it down on the board. "Doing something with creativity and love; putting a piece of yourself into your work. That what I want from all of you on this next assignment. It will be fairly simple, just a compilation of poems about yourself."

He drones on about the assignment details as the wheels churn in my head.

I wait patiently for the bell and Zayn skims over my notebook, flicking through the pages; reading what my heart has poured out onto the page, ink staining my fingers.

you tell me to quiet down cause

my opinions make me less beautiful

but i was not made with a fire in my belly

so i could be put out

i was not made with a lightness in my tongue

so i could be easy to swallow

i was made heavy

half blade and half silk

difficult to forget but

not easy for the mind to follow

"You'll have to give me a hint Harry."

"Rupi Kaur again."

"Ah figures, come back after your last class and I'll drive you home."

"Um, can we just go to your place?"

He contemplates for a minute, his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth.

"Yeah, sure. You'll have your backpack. Do your homework and then we can watch a movie. No fooling around, okay?"

"I promise. Are you free during lunch today?"

He shakes his head and shuffles through some papers. "Why babe?"

"I'm leaving campus. I'll get you something."

"You really don't have to babe."

"I want to."

He smiles softly and kisses me cheek, his eyes sparkling. "Are you excited about this assignment or do you think it's lame?"

"I think you worry too much about what other people think."

...

"Did you go to that place on Sixth Street?"

I nod as he munches on his samosas and steal one off his plate. He pouts and I giggle before taking a sip of my tea.

"How did you know?"

I'm too timid to admit that my brain memorizes all the small details about him. The way his words run together when he's excited or he mumbles when he's nervous. The way his fingers slip through his hair when he's in deep thought and the way his tongue darts out to lick his lips. The way he fiddles with his pen or clicks the cap of his dry erase markers. The way he gazes out the window when something strikes a chord with him and he takes a moment to let it seep in.

I've picked up on subtle things and what he likes. His favorite highlighter is bright green and he has a weird obsession with stapling things. I'm convinced he just likes the sound it makes when it punches through papers. He also doesn't believe in erasers, he just scribbles out his mistakes and moves on hurriedly, more thoughts pouring out onto pages.

All of his quirks and flaws are so astoundingly beautiful. If I told him he wouldn't agree.

Nobody ever realizes that the things that make them unique are the most unforgettable.

After all that thought I simply respond "I just know."

He kisses me insistently, his velvety smooth lips moving to my neck. His tongue tentatively leaves marks and I grow eager, nipping back with a sudden fierceness that could shake the world.

I'm transfixed, my feet planted so firmly to the ground I think I'll be stuck here for eternity.

And I'm yielding; relenting as his lips burn a fiery trail on my skin. I'm immersing myself in it, drowning in the scorching liquid but it doesn't matter. I'm melting into his arms. My body quakes as I become completely pliant. His lips assault my flesh and be nibbles on my ear.

My heart tumbles around in my chest like clothes in a washing machine.

Will it always be like this? Will my body always surrender to his touch? With every kiss I only plunge further. His lips capture mine again, his tongue delving into my mouth.

My heart tremors again and again as he pulls away, his eyes gleaming.

He's breathtaking. My fingers graze over the stubble sprouting on his chiseled jaw. His cheekbones are contoured; his skin bronzed and glowing.

Smoldering. Zayn is smoldering. Everything he does sets me on fire.

I scratch at his jaw and his eyelids flutter closed.

"Do you like that?"

He nods and my hands move to his head, massaging his scalp.

"I have to go to class Zayn. I'll see you tonight."

He pries his eyes open. They're dull now, the light gone.

"What's bothering you babe?"

"I'll miss you."

The meaning behind those words strikes me so hard my heart weeps.

...

Numb

feeling numb

why am i not

feeling more

spitting out

curses

too drunk

to care

but it hurts

and

i'm well aware

you don't

love me

Lessons

teacher

teach

me

how

to

love

again

love

again

and

again

and

again

"Harry these are really amazing," he praises and kisses my forehead. "Do you want to watch a movie now?"

"I would Zayn but I'm too tired. I just want to take a shower," a small yawn escapes me.

"That can be arranged," he chuckles.

And so I fall sound asleep, stretched out on his bed, my curls still damp.