please don't let go. ;

Oh. The smile spread across his face like butter, eyes flickering to the floor with a sudden fit of bashfulness. Oh. “It can be a date. A date is good,” he murmured, biting back his lower lip in attempts to fight off his own blush.

“    " It took him a beat or two to catch up to himself. "Are you like…" Zayn shook his head and smiled slightly. "Is this a date, Lou?"

Nostalgia is real. “Alright, yeah. Let me go grab my wallet.”

"Sure you want to be seen with me in public, Boobear?"

{ ♠ }    Louis felt wrecked      until the tips of his fingers. There was no other way to describe it. Not any combination of words would do it justice. Zayn would later try to find some way to explain with a high lighter and a dictionary and far too many hours alone but nothing would ever come as close to the vibration of Louis’ existence through the pads of his fingers as        well, Louis felt wrecked. Zayn just wanted to mend him but maybe he had lost the right to do that when Louis tore himself apart. When Louis tore himself away from Zayn. So he just sighed into his mouth, letting the pads of his fingers graze over his the wrecked boy until they curled against his hips and hitched him up onto his lap carefully. Just to bring him closer. Zayn didn’t dare let himself believe the kiss tasted like I love you because he knew better but he did let himself mold the words silently into Louis’ mouth, far too delicate to be far for either of them.

{ ♠ }    He whispered; swore he could hear the sound of Louis’ heart thrumming violently in his chest; was sure that it matched the consistent stutter of his own       but Zayn was calm. Soft and quiet and calm as he shifted back beside him to start with the hem line of his boxers; sweetly outlining the space just above the fabric with each finger tip until they all pooled together in the dip at the bottom of his spine. His palms pressed lightly over his sides, pausing just under the underside of his ribcage so his thumbs could smooth over the bones before slotting back into the in betweens. He counted heart beats for a minute before he traced the line of spine downward, forward, backwards and sideways (brushing over each vertebrae) until he knew he could draw it with his eyes closed. Then, the touches littered across the divots and juts of his shoulder blades, trailed over the slope of his shoulders and peppered delicately along the back of his neck until Zayn’s fingers reached Louis’ hairline. His thumbs caressed the sensitive space behind his ears before the tip of his index finger drew the outline of the shell. A deep breath and a shaky exhale later, Zayn gently nudged Louis to turn over again, reaching for one of his hands. He started at the wrist like before but this time Zayn’s fingers mapped the web of lines and viens from the boy’s pulse to his fingers until each of their fingertips had kissed; he did the same to the other before dark lashes fluttered to his face. “…You’re beautiful. If anyone knows that, I do.”