#stylik

Kings

mental : zarry (on Wattpad) http://my.w.tt/UiNb/IiSN2k05Xz "i'm not crazy... i just panic a lot." copyright © 2014 all rights reserved, kryptomike.

The Story Of Us {Zarry} One shot (op Wattpad) http://my.w.tt/UiNb/YukcQ2J6Gt Two best friends, who loved each other more than friends...

A Lifetime To Tell A Story To Remember -Zarry (op Wattpad) http://my.w.tt/UiNb/nImEtesJAt 'But i don't remember you! I don't remember any of this!' 'That's okay, sweet heart, because I will be right here to remind you every day. I will remind you every single day how much I love you' -------------------- Zayn and Harry are both in their early 70's. Harry has alzheimer. He can't remember parts of his life anymore, including his mar…

This is based on this prompt: Person A and Person B are in a heated argument. Mid-argument, person A starts to get the hiccups and person B is trying their best not to laugh. I wrote this on a whim last last night. Hopefully, it’s still enjoyable? Please go easy on me as this is my very first venture into the Zarry fanfiction. Thanks x ****** “What the fuck are you on about, H?” Harry’s usually wide eyes narrow in annoyance, his nostrils flaring as he readies to fight to get his point across. “You tell me, Zayn,” he scoffs, pushing the hair that has fallen over his eyes away. He gives his fiancé an unimpressed look, lips pulled back slightly in a snarl and his arms crossed over his chest in defiance. “Perrie was hanging on you all night, trying to climb you like a bloody monkey on a tree!” Zayn, bless his heart, counts up to five in his head to calm down. It wouldn’t help any if he gets as worked up as Harry over something so petty. “For the last time, Harry, Pez was drunk,” he says patiently. He sighs softly and runs a hand through his hair. “She meant nothing of it. I doubt she even remembers what she did.” “You don’t know that! They say a person is in their most honest state when they are drunk. You, of all people, should know that, Zayn.” Oh, Zayn thinks belatedly, Harry is pissed. Zayn is sure of it now. Last night, after dropping an intoxicated Perrie in her apartment, Harry has been unusually quiet, merely mumbling a sulky good night before seemingly falling into a deep sleep. Zayn thought nothing of it in his exhaustion and kissed the back of the younger man’s neck before succumbing to slumber. Looking at it now, Zayn thinks that was one of his dumb moments, letting Harry stew in his anger. Harry is normally quick to forgive and forget if someone does him wrong and apologizes for it. However, get on his bad side, allow for anger to take root and the boy will give you hell for it. Zayn has actually believed that he might be an exception to this rule but right now, as he has the unfortunate pleasure of experiencing this ‘hell’ firsthand, he isn’t so sure of anything anymore. This argument has been going on for the longest time, has started the moment Zayn’s feet has touched the cold hardwood of their kitchen floor and not once has the younger boy used his nicknames for Zayn to address him, which only meant one thing. This is serious. “What do you even want me to say, Haz?” Zayn mumbles tiredly, aching for a cup of coffee and Harry’s warm body snuggled against his. “It’s too fucking early for this.” At his lover’s defeated tone, Harry looks guilty for a second before he hurriedly puts on a scowl. Despite his obvious annoyance, the younger man grabs Zayn’s mug, angrily pouring him a cup of coffee. He jerkily stirs a teaspoon of sugar and some milk in it before pushing it towards Zayn. The hot liquid splashes on the side of the mug and Zayn gratefully picks it up, taking a small sip. “Nothing’s too early for your future husband, don’t you think, Zayn?” Harry sneers as he slathers butter on a piece of toast. He stacks them up high, puts a perfectly cooked sunny side up egg and sausages on the side and then pushes the plate to land infront of Zayn. “I am merely asking for an explanation of last night’s questionable turn of events.” Zayn’s own eyes narrow in turn and he shakes his head slowly. “You’re mental.” “Well, excuse me for being jealous of my fiancé and his ex-girlfriend basically dry humping each other right in front of my bloody eyes!” Harry says, voice raised. He slams a hand down the table with a loud clap, upsetting the contents on top of it. “If that is the only indicator of being crazy, I’d gladly let you put me in with the nutters.” “Harry,” Zayn grits out in warning. He wants to stay calm, really, but with the way Harry is almost intentionally provoking him, he’s losing the battle. Zayn does not take too lightly when a person gives him a bad time for something he absolutely has no idea of doing. Harry stares at Zayn with a tiny smirk, a glint of challenge in his pretty eyes. He leans close to Zayn’s face. “What, Zayn? Do you want me to go and fetch Perrie for you? Place her on your lap and watch as you two snog?” “Stop it, H.” “Maybe you want to finish what you’ve started last night, yeah?” Zayn stands up abruptly, knocking his chair back violently. He breathes out harshly, glaring heatedly at his fiancé. “Shut the fuck up, Harry!” Harry gets up to his full height, shoving Zayn slightly. “Don’t be daft! Just admit that you liked what Perrie was doing last night and only then will I shut up.” Liam, who has just gotten home from his morning jog, takes one peek inside the kitchen before fleeing to the safety of his room. Zayn and Harry’s fights tend to get very loud and emotionally taxing that he’d rather wait out his hunger than step foot inside the currently chosen war zone. Zayn looks absolutely gobsmacked. “What the hell? Harry, are you on some shit? The fuck are you talking about?” Harry’s bottom lip quivers and he takes in a deep breath. A series of different emotions cross his face: frustration, jealousy and annoyance. “You’re so dense! Perrie still likes you!” Zayn snorts, rolling his eyes. He has noticed that since Perrie is pretty obvious about it. It isn’t a problem, though. Zayn is so gone for a certain bright, curly-haired lad. No one else compares to Harry Styles. “So?” “She’s going to take you away from me! She has started last night and you weren’t even doing anything to stop her,” Harry accuses, pushing a hand in his hair and messing it up more. “The way I see it, s'like you’re soaking up the attention she’s giving you.” “You’re so immature,” Zayn grumbles, trying in vain to keep the fondness out of his voice. Ah, he thinks, so this is what all of this is about: jealousy. Harry never did wear jealousy well. The possessive brat. Zayn takes a step forward, intent on closing the distance between his and Harry’s body. Stubbornly, Harry steps back. “Fuck you, Zayn,” Harry fires back, knowing it will rile Zayn up. There is nothing in this whole world that Zayn hates more than someone cussing him. Harry, for the life of him, doesn’t know why but he wants this argument to last. Predictably, Zayn bristles, glare back in full force. “Harry, I suggest you shut up before I force you to do something else with that mouth of yours.” Harry opens his mouth to retort when a loud sound, that he least expects to, comes out instead. Hic! Both sporting wide-eyed looks, the heated tension in the room suddenly drops and the lovers freeze mid-argument. Harry’s expression of fury is steadily making way to one of sheer embarrassment while Zayn’s glare turn to a fight of swallowing peals of his laughter. Harry recovers fast and with glowing red cheeks, warns, “Don’t…hic…you…hic…fucking dare…hic…laugh!” Zayn, by now, has a hand over his stomach, clutching the fabric of his t-shirt tightly as he struggles to contain his merry laughter. A few chuckles escape the confines of his bitten lower lip and they push Harry’s blush from his cheeks down his neck and to the tips of his ears. Hic! “Stop it!” Hic! With a start, Zayn lets out a bark of laughter while Harry hiccups and pouts at him. “You’re…” Hic! “…mean.” Calming down a bit, Zayn quickly takes Harry in his arms, holding him tightly. He rubs his nose on the side of Harry’s neck, nuzzling the younger man, who weakly fights his advances with half-hearted shoves and grumbles mixed with hiccups. He chuckles louder when he feels him jolt with another hiccup. “My poor baby has the hiccups,” he murmurs softly, running a hand down Harry’s back. Harry squirms against Zayn’s hold, trying to get free as he is still determined to get an apology for what happened last night. Zayn sighs exasperatedly and tightens his arms around Harry. This day is so bloody exhausting and it isn’t halfway done yet. “I’m sorry,” he coos against the other’s ear. “I’m sorry I let Perrie drape herself all over me last night. To be quite honest, I’m properly knackered when we went out to the club that I’m kinda out of it. I was so sleepy that I barely noticed my surroundings.” Harry hiccups in an amusing cadence, seemingly his response and his encouragement for Zayn to go on and explain. Zayn is suddenly struck with how much he loves the man that he is currently holding in his arms, wondering in the back of his mind how will he ever go on with his life if one day Harry disappears. “Meri jaan,” he whispers sincerely, kissing the small patch of Harry’s skin that is exposed to him. “You’re all I want. All I need. You’re stuck with me until the end of our time here on our Earth. Heck, even beyond that. I will always, always love you.” Harry pulls back from their embrace and he looks utterly pleased, staring at Zayn with tenderness. Zayn decides that, more than anything, he truly despises making Harry upset. Harry smiles softly then, thinks that maybe he can push a full sentence out without hiccuping if he says it silently, and mouths an 'I love…’ Hic! “Damn it!” Hic! Zayn properly guffaws this time, peppering Harry’s face with kisses, completely enamoured with his soon-to-be husband. “I love…” Hic! “…you…” Hic! “…Z.” Yep, this is serious.

Zayn's hand >>>>>>