"You know what I hate?" Zayn asked, laying on Harry's couch Friday afternoon.

He had one arm above his head, bent with his hand behind his head while the other arm was rested across his stomach.

"What?" Harry asked while he looked through the movies he had.

"People who feel the need to sing about everything. Like shut the fuck up this isn't a Disney movie." Zayn complained, staring at the ceiling.

Harry looked back at him. "Need some head, babe?"

"What?" Zayn asked, looking at him.

"I asked if you needed some head. You seem a little upset." Harry observed.

"What I need is a will to live. But I lost that a long time ago." Zayn muttered, both of his arms folded across his chest now.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked, getting up and going over to him.

"Nothing."

"Obviously it's something." Harry said carefully.

"Just not in the best mood."

"I see that. Anything I can do?" He asked, sitting on the coffee table.

"No."

"Wanna look at me naked?" Harry offered.

Zayn sat up, looking into his eyes. "I'd much rather see your soul naked."

"Harry I'm not those people from school, or the internet. I'm right here. I have depth. Treat me that way." Zayn said.

"Fuck, you're right. I'm sorry. It's a really bad habit." Harry said.

"If you just acted like the real Harry all the time that habit would go away." Zayn told him.

"I know." Harry said, hanging his head as if he'd been scolded.

"Just be yourself, babe. Please. Like that night you met my mom." Zayn said.

"I'll try."

"I mean it. You said you'd try last time." Zayn said.

"Well this time I really will." Harry said, looking at him.

"Good." Zayn said softly.

Harry bit his lip. "I'll show you my naked soul."

"Yeah?"

Harry nodded, getting up.

Zayn followed him down the hall, watching him open the door to the hall closet.

Harry dug around for a bit, retrieving a box.

"I used to write. I kept journals growing up to kind of...help express what I was feeling. I started after he raped me and I stopped about a month ago." Harry said, kneeling on the floor and opening the box.

Zayn sat with him. "Why'd you stop?"

"You." Harry replied, looking at him.

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

"Good, I think. There's even some about you in the last one." Harry smiled.

"Here." He said, handing Zayn a compisition book.

"That's the first one."

Zayn opened it, smiling at Harry's child handwriting.

"Harry this is really private. Are you sure you want me to read it?" Zayn asked quietly, looking at him.

"It's who I really am. More solid in writing than in the body I inhabit. I find myself there better than when I look in the mirror. I'm kind of captured there. Like a photograph." Harry explained.

Zayn looked at him, feeling weak.

"I really love when you get like this, Harry. Being yourself."

Harry stared back at him, blushing just a bit.

"I feel so close to you. Everything feels more real, and clear. Your words just give me goosebumps and I can't explain how happy they make me." Zayn said.

Harry swallowed. "I guess it's a shame I tried to hide this part of myself, then. The real me."

"Please don't." Zayn begged, looking into his eyes.

"It just feels weird to...take the mask off, you know? It's kind of scary." Harry admitted.

"Burn the mask." Zayn insisted.

"I'm like a turtle without a shell, though." Harry chuckled, his heart pounding.

"I'll be your shell." Zayn said, serious as ever.

"Yeah?" Harry smiled.

"Absolutely. I'll do everything I can to protect you Harry. Sure, I'm there to protect...the masked side of you, and that side of you attracts me, no doubt. But this side? This side drives me wild. This side is the side that I would die to protect. I'm obsessed. Maybe because I get to see it so rarely." Zayn said.

"I'm sorry. It's just hard. I've been acting for so long." Harry said.

"I've honestly forgotten what it feels like to be myself. How sad is that?" He asked tearing up.

"Let me help you remember. Let it out around me. Be the real you. Just start with being yourself around me and we'll go from there." Zayn said.

"Okay." Harry said as Zayn wiped his tears away.

Zayn smiled some. "I want to read what you wrote about me."

"Of course you do." Harry chuckled, taking the old journal back.

He found the latest one, flipping to where he first started writing about Zayn.

"In the beginning what I wrote wasn't very nice." He warned.

"Okay. Skip to the nice part and let me read it." Zayn shrugged.

Harry flipped a few pages, stopping and handing the journal to Zayn.

Zayn read it, smiling.

"He looked at me today and I felt like I could've melted." Zayn read one part aloud.

Harry blushed.

Zayn read on, smiling the whole time.

"The way he walks drives me crazy. I don't know why I can't get him off my mind. I'm so attracted to his personality and don't care attitude. Maybe because I know deep down he really does care." Zayn read, blushing.

"Guess you had me figured out from the beginning, didn't you?" Zayn chuckled, glancing at him.

"Well yeah. I thought about you all the time, so of course I did." Harry smiled.

"I can't focus in class because of him." Zayn read.

"You are quite distracting." Harry chimed in.

"I wonder if he'd ever let me wear that leather jacket."

Zayn looked at Harry, who shrugged. "It looks really good on you and I always imagined me saying I was cold and you letting me wear it."

"I could get lost in his eyes." Zayn smiled as he read.

"That's still true." Harry smiled.

Zayn chuckled, flipping a few pages. "Oh, your last entry." Zayn realized.

"Yeah." Harry sighed, putting the other journals back in the box while Zayn looked at it.

"Things with him and I have been beyond perfect. He means more to me than anyone. So much it's scary." Zayn read.

Harry and Zayn both smiled, glancing at each other until Zayn went back to reading and Harry looked back down at the box.

Zayn's cheeks then turned red, his smile fading as his eyes read over the last part.

"I know that I'm in love with him, but I'll never have the guts to say it..." Zayn trailed off, looking at Harry, who had frozen.

Eventually Harry looked back at him, nervously clearing his throat.

"I um, guess my soul should get dressed now."

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