#♡ྀ : love & deepspace

[ariiadnes]

ㅤ♡ྀི ₊ bewitched

i'm a fool , but i'll love you dear.

❧ ꒰ zayne × love & deepspace × quote cr : bill trader ꒱ ╰┈ ✎ ・・・ repost from my primary writing blog!

"so it appears you've failed to learn your lesson."

you'd probably be more annoyed-- scratch that, much more annoyed at zayne's words had you not been freezing and fighting for your life in this unexpected cold front. it's just like last time-- the cancelled concert date, the cruel rain that betrayed news of seemingly decent weather. you know the weather isn't foolproof-- the words, his words, specifically, will haunt you until the end of time, and they continue to do so in this moment. what is there to trust if you cannot trust the weather report? where is the hope in humanity if you cannot rely on such a thing? you're not being dramatic. you are simply suffering in the cold. that's all.

much to his amusement, zayne watches as you absentmindedly grumble to yourself, shoving your hands in your pockets in futile attempt to stay warm. you throw him a half-hearted glare, though his lack of reaction indicates that it fails to make any impact.

"in my defense," you start, not having one at all, "i, at the very least, tried to come prepared." you take a hand out of your pocket, gesturing dramatically to your beanie and coat. an attempt to stay warm, perhaps-- a sad one, really, especially when the temperatures are so excruciatingly low. then again, how were you supposed to know?

"a poor attempt." zayne responds, and you swear you see his lips curve just the smallest bit. "but one i'll acknowledge. maybe you'll take this as another lesson to realize--"

"-- that the weather is foolproof, yeah, yeah."

his smile grows a bit more as he takes a step, closes the distance between you as he removes his scarf. you pick up all too easily on his intentions, but before you can protest, he's leaning down, face only inches from yours as he gently wraps the scarf around you. it's a few moments of careful consideration as he adjusts it, hoping to conserve some of your body heat. once he's done, he pauses, gaze meeting yours.

he doesn't pull back-- just studies you carefully, expression thoughtful, gentle. you feel your face heat up, murmuring a small word of thanks as your fingers nervously mess with the fabric, pulling it just a little closer to you in means of distraction. he really doesn't mind the lack of space -- in fact, he finds it too amusing with the way you react, always so shy.

it's only when you shiver again that he realizes you truly are ill prepared for this weather. he lets out a soft chuckle, hands grabbing yours, resting them gently against his face. your eyes widen the slightest bit, but you don't move away, your touch gentle in the way they seek warmth from the contact.

"--what are you doing?"

"my gloves are too large for you." he answers nonchalantly, though his hands still rest over yours, thumb ghosting over your skin in quiet reverence. "so maybe my body temperature will suffice for now."

you swallow hard, realize that you are, in fact, getting a little warmer, but only because you're flustered by his affection. he doesn't need to know that, though. but before you can thank him, he speaks once more, and you notice the pure mirth that lingers in his eyes.

"actually," he says, smiling ever so faintly, "it seems like your own embarrassment will be the one to warm you."

you've decided that you're suddenly not thankful anymore.

"...please be quiet, zayne."

he hums in amusement, presses a kiss to your forehead.

"only if you promise that you'll learn your lesson this time."

"what am i gonna do? ask the weather myself if the forecast is accurate?"

another chuckle, then another kiss to your nose, then your lips.

"of course. how else would anyone do it?"