summary: beaten down by the world, you thank zayne for being the only one who does the opposite instead.
pairing: zayne x non!mc reader
tags: angst, fluff, comfort!!!!, self deprecation, insecure!reader, non!mc fem!reader, domestic, emotional turmoil
taglist: @xinghuisknight, @hirayalia, @violasepals, @snowyfishes, @mrsqins, @txtworlddom @thewrldx
a/n: this is a request made by my lovely snowcrow anon! and also first work after hiatus. i sincerely hope it delivers. as i was done writing i realised it wasn't in the conventional format but this is the snowypi special so i hope you enjoy regardless! also the cologne is canon; versace pour homme dylan blue
The faucet leaks gently onto the sink, a rhythmic tap-tap-tap echoing off of the walls. Your knuckles are turning white with how tightly you're gripping the porcelain. The stone digs into your palms almost painfully.
You still don't let go.
The bathroom mirror is fogged over. Your silhouette is a cloud of colours under texture, blending with the smooth monotone tiles of the walls. It looked like how you felt: a swirl of hues lacking detail and vigour, not clear enough to see. Not clear enough for anything, really. Just not enough. Never enough.
You bite your lip as saltine droplets pool over your lash line. The steady sink slips from under your grip and you stumble, stepping back just in time to avoid a fall.
A loud ringtone resounds in your ear right as you close the bathroom door. The phone is heavy in your hands, your footfalls even heavier. Sliding up against a couch pillow, you clear your throat and muster something other than a tear-streaked scowl as you glance at the Caller ID.
The dam nearly breaks twice. There's a dull throb in your head as you hold back the sobs, throat constricting painfully. These tears were different, though.
You could count on one hand the number of people in your life who had ever made you feel like you were someone worth more than an afterthought. Someone worth more than being categorised as a simple existence in a sea of mediocrity dubbed by social conventions.
Someone worth more than being thought of as less, if thought of at all.
You watch as the melody from your phone ebbs away and your screen darkens— before brightening almost immediately, ringtone louder than ever.
You're quick to swipe on green this time.
Zayne's dulcet voice is laced with concern. "You didn't pick up my call. Are you upset?"
Trying to mask the roughness of your vocal chords, you reply softly. "Don’t worry about it. There’s, um, there’s something I need to tell you, though."
"I'm on my way home. If it is serious we should talk about it in person."
“O-oh,” you stutter, deftly wiping your eyes with the back of your hand. Hold it together. “Okay.”
Barely ten minutes pass before you hear the mechanical clicks of your front door unlocking.
You wave from the couch, lips stretched in a smile. Zayne beelines straight for your general direction, shrugging off his coat while pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead. You can’t help but giggle when you feel him nudge a warm drink into your palm.
He sidles up beside you, holding an identical paper cup. “This is hot chocolate from that French bakery you like.”
“Did you get this before or after you assumed we were going to have a serious talk?”
A small smile plays on his lips. “Before, of course.”
There is a peaceful silence that follows, broken momentarily by the soft shuffle of the paper cup as you bring it to your lips. The dense chocolate bursts on your tongue, thick and gooey. It warms you from the inside out like a tender caress, easing the soreness of your throat and the cold that had settled in your chest.
Sinking deeper into the couch, you catch Zayne's expectant gaze.
"Right, so...I just…I just wanted to say thank you, you know?"
You take a deep breath, forcing yourself to meet his eyes.
"Thank you for always being so… appreciative. So affectionate and so kind to me. You love me in a way that's like— like this warm hug I can just melt in— and I'm so thankful, Zayne. It means everything to me."
You mean this so sincerely that you can feel the return of the waterworks. Blinking away the intruders, you bite your lip to focus on a different sensation.
“It just… It just always feels like everyone around me thinks I’m this…substandard sort of person. And maybe I am?”
Zayne gazes at you with all the softness of the world, listening intently.
“I feel like I'm bad at everything I do, if not terrible, and I don’t know if I’ve even been like more than average at anything but when I’m with you, it’s like none of that even matters."
Cradling the paper cup, you thumb at the protective lining, feeling the seams of the fragile cardboard.
“You’re the only one who makes me feel this way. And– and I just wanted to say thank you for that. Thank you so much, Zayne. That's all.”
Pursing your lips, you take a nervous sip of the hot chocolate. It's lukewarm now. You feel the softer tendrils of warmth ebb away to a quiet frost.
You steal a look at the man beside you, only to be met with an expression that's utterly unreadable. The soft smile he was sporting prior is absolutely wiped from his face. Did you do something wrong? You shift your gaze to the paper cup, and then to the TV console. Hell, you could hear the cicadas outside. This silence, characteristic as it was, felt more like an anvil being dropped on your chest than anything.
There's one thing left to do. Damage control.
You mentally gear up, ready to dismiss the depth of your confession and repackage it's message— but Zayne beats you to it.
His voice is laced with a sternness you don't often get to hear. "How long have you been carrying such a fallacious belief?"
"I...uh, I wouldn't say it's a just a belief? This is how it's always been, Zayne."
He quietly slips his slender fingers into your own, thumb rubbing along the backside of your palm. You lean in by habit, shoulders brushing, head falling to rest on the arch of his shirt-clad shoulder.
"You are wrong." Zayne states.
"What?"
"Some say the odds of running into your soulmate are 1 in 10,000, however..."
You fail to hold in your giggle. "Soulmate, huh?"
Zayne clears his throat. You smile, feeling his cheek press on the top of your head as he continues.
"However, if we factor in the size of the global population, age ranges, geography, and mutual attraction, the probability of crossing paths with that exact, single person in our lifetime is mathematically considered near impossible. In addition, we had special circumstances, so I'd argue it truly was intended to be impossible."
You hum in thought. "So against all odds, I met you."
"Correct. Against all odds, I met you."
"So you're saying that I'm an anomaly?"
"I'm saying that you're extraordinary. That you're the antonym of everything you just described yourself as. That you're not defined by the words of people who are blind to your incredible character. That you're one in a billion, Y/N, and there is nothing in this world that could prove me otherwise."
If Zayne was facing you right now, he'd definitely glimpse the rosy blush that had powdered itself across your cheeks. You're left gaping like a fish out of water, a familiar warmth blooming in your chest. Great. Now you're hyperaware of how close you two are. You're leaning on his shoulder and his chin is resting tenderly on your head, hands laced together with one free to hold your respective cups. He smells good, you think. Like antiseptic and an earthy kind of cologne.
Zayne squeezes your hand. "I am as appreciative as my sincerity allows me to be. I should be thanking you, Y/N."
You don't see the tips of his ears redden, or the timid smile that involuntarily shapes itself on his lips. But you do hear his voice shift to an almost-whisper, slow and careful. "I can no longer imagine a life without you by my side." Zayne confesses.
You feel him press a gentle kiss to the crown of your head, and then another.
"You're everything. There is no story, no universe I would rather be in than this one... with you. And only you."
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