"Harry, can I talk you?"

"Sure."

Zayn smiles sympathetically as I follow my mum into the living room.

"Are you using protection?"

I laugh at the absurdity.

"Seriously? What makes you think we're having sex?"

Her mouth forms into a tight line.

"You're a hormonal teenager."

"Please, I'm almost nineteen. I'm a legal adult."

"How old is he Harry? Be honest."

I inhale and prepare myself for a lecture.

"Twenty three."

Her brows raise as she struggles to find words.

"You have my approval. Just be smart please, keep things cordial at school. Please don't do anything that could get him or you into trouble."

"Really?"

I hug her excitedly, my heart racing.

"Can I spend the night?"

"I don't know Harry, I-"

"I'll have you know that if anything were to happen, I'm well equipped with condoms." She jumps back startled and he laughs lightly.

"I didn't mean to scare you. I just want you to know that I take good care of your son. You think I'm joking but I'm not. Besides, it isn't about that to me. Harry means more than that.

She looks away for a split second and Zayn seizes the moment by winking at me.

"Alright, you can stay the night. Make sure he does all his homework."

"Wait," he wraps his arms around her and whispers something in her ear. She looks at me, a faint smile on her face and I can't help but wonder what he said to her.

"I'm the best," he grins.

"Is she right Zayn? Are we moving too fast? Tell me what you said."

He presses a kiss to my forehead and takes my hand in his, pulling me into his room.

"It isn't like we're getting married. We're just cherishing our time together before you go off to uni."

I tug off my boots and scoot beside him on the bed, our fingers entwining.

"That's not going to happen. I'm sorry Zayn, I just can't do four more years of school."

He traces the curve of my upper lip with his finger.

"Whatever you think is best babe."

i wonder

which is

deadlier,

a gun

or my own

thoughts

the chance

to do harm,

and for

my brain

to pull

the trigger

"I'll support you no matter what. You know that right?"

I nod silently, swallowing the lump in my throat.

"I just want to make you proud."

"Harry it's your future. I just-"

"Harry," my mum peeks around the door. She looks relieved that we're just talking, our fingers laced together. "I'm going home. Zayn, thank you for the hospitality and the recipe."

"Of course. Thank you for giving me Harry."

My heart melts into liquid.

We wait until the front door closes before our conversation resumes, our words filling the air.

My eyes land on his bookcase, skimming over Marvel comic books and literary classics.

"What's your favorite?"

He follows my gaze, his tongue wetting his lips.

"I don't know if I can pick one. I'm much fonder of poetry anyway."

I nuzzle up against him and his fingers card through my hair.

"Maybe we should go to Italy this summer."

"Too fancy. I'm fine with Los Angeles or something."

"I owe you about thirty dates."

I laugh, my lips skimming over his neck, my words getting lost against his skin.

"You don't owe me anything."

"I want to make up for lost time."

"Zayn, this is all I need. Moments like these."

"Do you want kids?"

"It isn't like we're getting married," I mock.

"Eventually, I just meant not at the moment. I'm certain I'm going to spend the rest of my life with you."

He kisses me so softly I nearly forget how to breathe.

My fingers tangle in his hair.

And I breathe him in.

"I got you something babe."

"I don't need any gifts Zayn."

He sits up and rummages through his nightstand, pulling out a small velvet box.

"A ring?"

He opens it up, pulling out a plain silver ring with his name engraved.

"A promise of my love, so I'll always be with you."

My eyes are wet with tears as he slips it on my finger. He tugs the chain out from under his shirt, revealing a matching ring, with my name engraved.

"Do you think it's stupid?"

"Not at all. This isn't just some fling. I'm madly in love with you. I want to stay this way forever."

"In love?"

I nod, a single tear slipping down my cheek. It vanishes under his lips.

"Your birthday is coming up, do you want anything?"

"Just you," I smile.

"I'm serious Harry."

"So am I," I giggle.

"Haaarrryyyy," he sings. "Tell me or I'll tickle you."

"I'm trembling in fear."

His fingers attack my sides and a fit of laughter ensues.

"A Polaroid."

"Okay you little long-haired hipster. A camera it is."

"I'm snapping so many blackmail photos of you."

"The hell you are," he chuckles.

"Watch me."

"What if I don't get you a camera?"

I pout and give him puppy dog eyes. "Then I'll be very sad."

"Fine," he huffs.

"Whipped," I joke.

"Want me to whip your ass?"

"Spank me daddy," I laugh.

He props up on his elbows, his frame hovering over me, watching my mouth move as I speak.

"Have you ever seen the movie Summer School?"

"Can't say I have."

"Comedy, shit movie. A coach has to teach remedial English over the summer. We should watch it sometime."

"Do you want to watch a movie? We can't stay up too late, you have school tomorrow."

"So do you teacher."

He tosses a pillow at me, muffling my laughter.

I swear on my life, I'm going to marry this man.

I lift up the hem of his shirt, my fingers brushing over his tattoos.

"I know what else I want for my birthday."

His tongue flicks over his bottom lip and he smirks, his honey colored eyes glimmering.

"What's that babe, wild birthday sex?"

"No...well yes but that's not what I was going to say. Let's get matching tattoos."

"I like that idea," he hums. "That's permanent though, are you sure?"

"Positive. Isn't our love permanent?"

He falls back onto the bed beside me, a smile on his face.

"Our mums do need to meet. They would enjoy each other's company."

"My mother is getting better babe, I'm sure she'll feel up to it soon."

His hand rubs my back soothingly. My toes curl as I let out a content purr.

"She'll get to see our wedding. I'll make sure of that."

"What's with you and getting married?"

Says the guy that swore he'd marry his teacher three minutes ago.

He kneads my tense shoulders, working out the knots.

"I'm getting old. You should give me a massage."

Hot oil massage. Noted.

"You are not," I laugh. "If I look as good as you when I'm twenty three-"

"Don't even go there. You're turning nineteen."

"Our age gap isn't even big. It sucks that I'm your student. I mean it shouldn't fucking matter. I'm an adult. Who cares if we're having sex?"

"They'll get the wrong idea Harry, people will accuse me of changing your grade and shit. They could technically fire me."

"But it isn't like we have sex at school. I don't want to be afraid of being seen with you. I want to eat at a fancy restaurant or go on a picnic. I want to do cliché couple shit with you. I would give you the world Zayn. And lots of poems."

"I'm giving you your camera early and you're going to let me take loads of pictures of you."

I chuckle, my eyelids fluttering closed.

"Okay but I want you in some."

"We can do that."