On a dreary Thursday morning, Zayn walks into the cafe. And the only reason it's so dreary is because the skies are dark, indicating it's going to begin pouring rain in just a few minutes. However, itching to smoke, but determined to feel better, Zayn decides to get coffee and around seven in the morning. He's not sure if the coffee is working...but it's been about two days now where he hasn't done anything.

That doesn't mean he hasn't been getting a little agitated because he sort of pledged to himself to not smoke and Zayn doesn't like breaking those. Smoking has always just been a stress reliever. The only one besides art and playing or writing music. However, on days he has to work he can't exactly do those alternatives...smoking is quick and easy but deadly. And thats the precise reason he has to stop.

The man walks in, eyes traveling to the counter to see the same woman he saw early in the morning a few days ago. He smiles pleasantly and orders the bitter black coffee which is whipped up quickly before he is turning to walk to the back of the cafe, sitting down on a lone chair. He takes out his phone, noticing he really has no messages.

Zayn figures he should invite Louis or anyone, considering he is simply alone and not doing anything. He sends Louis a few texts, hoping he is awake. His friend usually shows up to work at around nine or thirty minutes after.

The man looks up, noticing someone different behind the counter, back turned as he looks at all the equipment around him. Zayn smiles and stands, leaving his cup in it's spot to walk over to the man. "Harry, hey." Zayn says loudly enough for him to hear, making the man whip around to look in Zayn's direction. He looks at him with a frown, furrowing his brows. "You remember me, right?" Zayn jokes with a small smile, attempting to get Harry to smile back and feel at ease with untense shoulders. "We sort of live next to each other now." he shrugs, but of course he never saw Harry this morning. The guy probably leaves earlier than him.

He seems mute as he nods his head, hands curling into fists before he hides them behind his back. "You're talking to me." Harry says quietly that Zayn sort of has to lean forward to hear him.

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" Zayn chuckles.

Harry looks confused before walking up to the counter. "Would you like to order anything, sir?" he questions.

"No, I ordered already."

"Then why are you here?"

"To speak to you." Zayn answers lucidly, not taking his off putting attitude into consideration. Zayn doesn't assume he means it and just doesn't trust him, which is understandable. Harry nods, looking unphased by the revelation now. He simply clears his throat, not looking away.

"I can't talk to you." He whispers.

Zayn is the one frowning now, furrowing his brows. Strange guy for sure. "And why is that?"

Harry purses his lips, bringing up a hand to lock them with an imaginary key. Zayn snorts in amusement, smiling again. He nods his head before looking around, spotting a stack of napkins on the counter. He takes one and pulls a blue inked pen from his pocket at the same time. Zayn proceeds to write his number down before folding the napkin up and he looks back up at Harry.

"Can I see your hand?" Zayn asks as Harry watches him cautiously. Harry looks down at the napkin.

"Why?" he mumbles. "Will it hurt me?" he asks. Zayn laughs, hearing it as a joke but notices the seriousness in the man's face, making his laughter die out and another frown to takeover his lips.

"Oh uh,no." He snorts. "It definitely won't hurt you." He smiles reassuringly. Harry shakes his head.

"I hardly know you." He says.

"Its just my number, Harry. To contact me." Zayn shrugs, setting the napkin on the counter to prove it to him. Harry eyes it curiously.

"Why are you giving me your number?" Harry asks.

"That's what friends do." Zayn says.

Harry narrows his eyes and Zayn bites his bottom lip, trying to hide the amusment growing on his face. "You're weird." Harry says.

"I'm weird." Zayn scoffs.

"Yes, you are." Harry nods and Zayn just chuckles shaking his head.

"Sorry, don't mean to be weird." Zayn says with a shrug.

"I took Martial Arts in middle school," he states. "If you try anythi-"

"Harry," Zayn says, putting a hand on the counter, making Harry flinch in his frigid posture. He proceeds to back up from the counter slightly, glaring at Zayn. And Zayn ignores it, not wanting to cause another problem that the man clearly has with him. But Zayn doesn't even know why. "I just want to give you my number so we can be friends." he smiles gently again.

"I'd have to ask my mum."

Zayn blinks in confusion. "Your mum?" he questions, not wanting to judge too quickly but he's confused, considering this is a grown man he is speaking to. Harry pouts, nodding slightly.

"If I don't ask my mum, I'm not doing the right thing." he says.

Zayn furrows his brows, parting his lips to say something but Harry quickly moves away and asks someone about their order in a very monotone, robotic voice. Zayn purses his lips, watching the man turn around and begin to make some coffee. Zayn sighs heavily and looks away, turning to walk back over to his now room temperature coffee.

Leaving for work, Zayn checks his phone to see Louis didn't answer anyway and figures he isn't up yet, so he texts him a "nevermind lazy head". And as Zayn sits and works at his computer, he knows that he is about to enter a world, or force his way into rather, he's never explored before and he's not sure how he will feel about it in the end because he's never met such a confusing character in his life.

LATER

Walking home in the rain was never enjoyable, especially with the wind blowing relentlessly despite having a convenient umbrella to potentially protect himself. Zayn sighs heavily as he steps into the small lobby of the apartments.

Considering everywhere is pretty close Zayn has decided to stop taking his car, mostly because less traffic.

Suddenly, his phone begins to ring relentlessly in the quiet when he steps into the elevator to get to his floor. He sighs, taking it out to see his mother's number. Furrowing his brows in confusion and concern, considering his mum hardly calls, Zayn answers with a short "Hi mum", to be respectful.

"Zayn, I'm over at Don's apartment with the girls, think you can come over for a quick visit?" she asks, his younger sisters laughing and talking loudly in the background.

"Um, sure thing, how long are you down here for?" he asks.

"Well, Wali has a cheer competition and I was able to take off work for a week so Safaa and I decided to join," she says, sounding happy as she explains it all to Zayn. He figures they wouldn't willingly come down, that's a lot of damn money, especially to New York. The cheer team usually do fundraisers in order to travel, some extra expenses obviously having to be paid up to one hundred or two hundred for each girl.

"I'll be there in twenty, that's fine?" Zayn asks.

"Course, Zayn, see you." she says before hanging up.

The elevator doors open and Zayn steps out before walking down to his apartment, easily unlocking the door and going through to sigh in relief when he closes the door, dramatically leaning against it in exhaustion because he can even if he's not tired at all.

Zayn walks into the kitchen, putting his keys into a specific drawer that he keeps them in, just to remember every time and he turns to walk to his room to at least change out of formal clothing and into some casual.

As Zayn puts on his shirt he notices a pain strike his head, making him grimace, knowing this may be from the fact he hasn't had a cigarette in the past three days. He's itching for one now just from the thought, making him groan as he stands up, figuring he could just stop for a coffee on the way to his sisters and mum.

Knawing on his bottom lip anxiously as he taps on his pant leg, fingers tremoring only slightly from the agitation, Zayn walks out of his room and looks around to see if anything is out of order or needs to be fixed before going but everything seems fine in the silent living area, so he leaves. His throat feels dry and eyes are watering a bit, two contrasting problems that bother him greatly. His headache has heightened and a faint ringing could be heard in his ears.

Before enerting the elevator Zayn has to stop, shutting his eyes tightly to compose himself and he attempts to even out his breathing. He swallows thickly, feeling the bile rise in his throat because of the anxiety that is shooting through his system. Everything is happening at once and it bothers him that he can't stop it but at least he knows why it's happening. It's nicotine withdrawal. 

Thoughts of giving in are strong and Zayn just can't help himself to simply drive to a damn convnicence store and buy a pack. It would be so damn easy to do it, have a few that he has oh so dearly missed, come back to his apartment and take a shower to get the smell off him, brush his teeth a few times and then head back and that's what he's too going to do because this is all too much-

The elevator doors ding, indicating someone has come up and the doors have opened, making Zayn's eyes snap open in panic. He sighs shakily, running his fingers through his hair and ignoring everything going through his body. He's never handled stress well, precisely why he took on this lifestyle. Competitions, school, competitive people, it all freaks him out and he could never handle it. Zayn doesn't want to care, never has, which is why he forced himself not to
by distancing himself from people who want him to.

As Zayn walks, turning to enter the elevator, he almost knocks into someone walking off, making him stop in his tracks before he does. "Zayn," Harry says in surprise, stopping in his tracks as well. Zayn let's out a breath, smiling slightly at his familiar, cautious face. Harry's lips seem to tilt up slightly from Zayn's actions.

"Hey, Harry, leaving work so soon? I was just about to go over there to get my usual." Zayn shrugs.

"Black." Harry says, even though he's never actually taken Zayn's order. Zayn smiles a little wider, nodding. He physically feels tired from that small freak out, but that's just because of his mind. He lets himself get that way but he can't, or shouldn't. "Why do you like coffee so much?" he asks.

"It helps me." Zayn responds, biting his bottom lip.

Harry nods. The way Harry is so observant, Zayn notices now, makes him uncomfortable, especially in moments like these when he just had a freak out and he's looking Zayn over for a little too long. "I can go back and make you one...the mean old guy is at the counter...but I'll show him," Harry mumbles the last sentence, mostly speaking to himself as he flickers his gaze to the ground. Zayn grins, nodding.

"Want a ride?" he asks.

Harry frowns deeply as he looks up again. "I can't go into strangers' cars." Harry says.

"I thought we were friends." Zayn says. They maybe aren't fully friends, but they have to be getting somewhere, right?

"N-no, we can't be friends yet." Harry shakes his head. "I take the bus, sit all the way in the back of where there are no people in order to not be touched by anyone, then I walk out and if anyone looks at me funny I run." Harry explains randomly and Zayn nods along, noticing his voice can go slow or fast pace, very deep and calming.

Zayn flickers his gaze down to Harry's hands noticing he is clutching a bag very tightly in it. "You don't have to , but , I will make your coffee if you just wait here. I have to give this muffin to my mum. She loves banana." Harry says.

"Oh Harry, you're ready off work." Zayn waves him off. "Don't overwork yourself."

"But what if I want to?" Harry furrows his brows, glaring slightly.

"Then go right ahead." Zayn chuckles, shrugging.

"Especially when you look so distressed. If we are becoming friends, shouldn't I help?" Harry questions with a serious expression and Zayn can feel himself forget about his discomfort as he lets out a laugh, obviously surprising Harry who blinks quickly in confusion.

"Yes Harry, it would actually be awesome if you helped as a friend." Zayn nods, chuckling lightly. Harry smiles, with dimples in his cheeks and all, and Zayn can't lie that he missed it...it really lights up his face.

After Harry gives his mum her muffin and they decide to simply walk instead of taking any vehicle, Zayn happily bounces beside the taller man, hand in pockets and a small smile on his face. He doesn't know why being with Harry makes him feel at ease but it does. Instead of pouring rain, the sun is now shining.

Maybe it's because the man seems non judgmental and accepting but cautious if he doesn't like something. He's careful, which Zayn respects because so is he, but not in a way that's offensive.

"So, when did you move here, Harry?" Zayn asks, flickering his gaze to the man who has been looking straight in front of himself this whole time.

"After my sister transferred to an American college. New York University." Harry says.

"You have a sister? What's her name?" Zayn questions, furrowing his brows in curiosity.

"Um-" Harry knaws on his lower lip, glancing at Zayn skeptically and Zayn frowns, raising a brow.

"What?" Zayn asks softly.

Harry shakes his head. "Her name is Gemma." He responds quietly, letting out a shaky breath afterwards.

Zayn nods silently, feeling guilty because he probably hit some type of nerve, or he didn't, he doesn't really know with Harry.

"Well, what do you like to do for fun, Harry?" Zayn asks a safer question, not about people or anything too personal, more general.

"I like to...I like to do a lot of things." Harry shrugs.

"Well, what's one thing you like to do the most?" Zayn smiles, asking.

Harry glances at him, looking over his face. Zayn raises his brows, wondering why he constantly seems hesitant to answer a question that is so simple in Zayn's mind. "I like to sing." He says softly. Zayn's features brighten instantly from the answer.

"For how long have you sung?" Zayn asks.

"I don't sing a lot." Harry shrugs. "Just when I'm in the mood." He mumbles, looking down at the ground.

Zayn nods, smiling slightly. Suddenly Harry's phone begins to ring in his hand, making the forest eyed man flinch. Zayn glances at the screen as he brings it up to their vision. It's his mum, and Harry answers it quickly.

"Hi, mummy." He says softly. Zayn smiles at the way he calls his mum. "I'm with a friend. Sorry I didn't come home." He sighs. "Its Zayn. The nice guy." He mumbles, looking down at the floor, watching his feet hit the pavement gently as he takes slow strides. Zayn's heart jumps at the title. Good thing he's seen as a good person in his eyes. "Okay." He mumbles again. "Bye." Harry takes the phone from his ear and hangs up, turning to Zayn as he puts it in his pocket. "Would you like to come over for dinner tomorrow?" Harry asks.

Zayn nods. "Of course, what time?" he asks.

"My mum usually begins cooking around five and should be ready at about six since I help her out." He explains to Zayn and Zayn smiles brightly.

"I'd love to join you Harry."

Harry nods, humming. "Love? Mum says love is a strong word." He says, shaking his head. "Would you really love to?" Harry asks, seeming confused.

"Yes, I really would love to." Zayn nods, opinion not faltering. Harry looks taken aback, but quickly recomposes himself and looks away.

They make it to the coffee shop in silence and Harry walks behind the counter, no questions asked by the old man, before he begins to make the black coffee just by brewing a fresh batch and he pours it into a styrophome cup, not forgetting the lid. And Zayn simply leans his weight on the counter, watching him fondly with a small grin.

When Harry turns around and sets it on the counter, Zayn is already pulling out his wallet to take out a dollar and pay for it, which Harry takes and in a systematic, rigid way, he puts it into the cash register.

"Home bound?" Zayn asks, the smell of the bitterness wafting into his nose deliciously. Harry purses his lips, shrugging, before walking past Zayn and Zayn follows behind him quickly. "You didn't want any coffee?" he questions as they walk further and further away.

"I said I didn't like it, didn't I?" he questions, furrowing his brows as he glances at Zayn and honestly, Zayn attempts not taking that personally because it just seems like his personality.

It's beginning to get dark, the sky no longer a tangerine orange, indicating the sun setting, but a light lavender slowly turning a navy blue. The sky looks beautiful with the minimal street lights in this part of town, until reaching a certain part where all the stars and beauty disappear.

They pass a park as they walk and Zayn becomes elated looking at the swings and slides and sandboxes with no children running around. He could just be in there by himself and do whatever the hell he wants, probably getting weird looks from passerbys but he wouldn't care. But that's for another day, he figures, when they pass it.

Zayn realizes Harry is very quiet when seeming in a calm state. His walk is leisure, shoulders relaxed, head facing the ground but eyes flickering up every so often to make sure he's going in the right direction. Zayn almost forgot about his coffee and starts taking quick sips. Just by hanging out with someone he forgot about his discomfort, thank Allah.

"Did you ever add my number Harry?" Zayn asks.

"I um, took the napkin, if that is what you like to know." Harry says quietly.

"Did you add it?"

"No." Harry shakes his head.

Zayn nods, frowning.

"I will, I just haven't had the chance." Harry says quickly. Zayn looks at him as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out the brown napkin made with recycled paper. It's folded neatly. "See?" Harry says, looking back at Zayn. Zayn smiles.

"I'm glad, hopefully you can text me tonight?" Zayn asks and Harry nods in agreement.

"Yes." he says.

And after walking Harry back to the apartments and all the way to his door, Zayn has this light feeling in his chest and his step as he leaves to go see his family.

(This chapter is unedited but I was just really in the mood for them to hang so yeah that was spontaneous which this whole book is really ooops

Have a wonderful day! Remember, you're beautiful.)