"The cart comes way before the horse in the reality series "Married at First Sight.""

---

"You sure you wanna do this?"

"Yes. Yeah, right? Like, what've I got to lose, yeah?"

"Um, how about your freedom?"'

"I wanna get married, Haz. Not go to fucking prison."

"Seriously, Zayn. It's like, you won't try Match but you think a show's the fucking answer?"

"It--It could be. Look," he runs a hand across his face, "Harry, honestly. This is what I want. C'mon, mate. I expected you to be more supportive than my fucking mum."

"I..." Harry lets out a long breath. "Sorry."

Zayn chuckles softly. "Least you're better than Liam."

"Dad?" Harry sniffs, laughing through his nose. "Figures."

It's an exceptionally hot day in Miami.

It's one of those days where Harry and Zayn are both home after a cancelled flight and they get to cruise through the city in Harry's convertible. It's one of those days where the breeze is nice and warm and the girls are all out in the city with bikini's showing off more skin than less. It's one of those days where together, the two of them would be scoping out who would come back to their respective condos and spend the night.

Just one night.

And Zayn was tired of these one-nighters.

He was looking for his forever.

"I just...I just wanna know why," Harry shrugs, fingers tapping impatiently upon the steering wheel. "Why, now? Why this? Why...a stranger?"

"'Cause apparently I'm doing something wrong on my own," Zayn replies. His eyebrows pull frustratedly, as those three AM thoughts that plague him are brought to light. "I'm fucking thirty, Haz. I've been in and out of relationships and," he shakes his head, "honestly thought I'd have kids by now."

"S'hard, though," Harry replies. "It's not bad, Zayn. We've got a difficult job. We're working; traveling all the time."

"And aren't you tired of it?" He asks, because different women in different cities were no longer fulfilling anymore. Zayn wanted a stability he couldn't find in his line of work. "Aren't you ever lonely?"

"'Course," Harry smiles softly. He rests his head on his shoulder, "Been lonely for such a long time, though, I guess I've gotten used to it."

Zayn shakes his head. "I don't wanna be lonely anymore, mate."

And Harry nods, his other arm's slung over the door, ring-clad hand clanging against the metal. 

"You really think this'll work, though? Like, you think this's the answer? A television show?"

"I mean, what've I got to lose?"

"It's an experiment, mate. A social experiment," he taps the wheel, "Doesn't that seem kinda...? I don't know. You wanna be under a microscope?"

"We're supposed to get matched up, like," Zayn pauses, staring out into the street, "like, scientifically. It's supposed to be the dating sites but, better, y'know?"

"And you meet...when?"

Zayn smiles sheepishly. "On our wedding day."

And Harry was not one to curse, but...

"Shit."

___

i kind of love this already.

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