Oh, Won't You Let Me Burn (Won't You Let Us Conquer) [Zarry]

Chapter Seven | Zone In On Apollo

It's been three weeks.

Three weeks since Apollo barreled back into his life. Three weeks since Zayn got stuck with him in a storage room on the beach. Three weeks since they last saw each other.

Three weeks that Zayn's been– well, not avoiding, per se, but let's just say that after he'd foolishly advised Harry to ask him out to lunch the next time that they crossed paths, well, he'd kind of been trying to keep that time from coming.

He still doesn't even know why he did that. He'll admit that their time together in the storage room did allow him to see his "mortal enemy," as Talia was wont to referring to him as, in a whole new light, but that didn't mean that they were suddenly friends.

Harry admitting to practically being a big ball of insecurity in the past didn't change the fact that Zayn still thought that he was whiny and childish and overrated, and that he strung people along, saying whatever it was that he believed that they wanted to hear while charming the pants off any and everyone who was near.

And he means, even he can acknowledge that that was back then and that he finds Harry only slightly more tolerable now, in the present, but he guesses that old habits just die hard.

"Hey, Zayn." Neo had just exited the back room and was wrapping his scarf around his neck when he temptingly asked, "Fancy some food from Chef Stef? It's been way too long," after one of their shifts one night.

Zayn briefly turned his attention away from the cash register. "Yeah, sounds good, mate. Just let me finish up here."

"Sure," his coworker nodded. "Caroline, Harry, and I will be waiting outside for you then."

His head snapped back up again at those words– or really, at one in particular. Neo didn't seem to notice. Zayn's eyes slowly moved past him though, to over at the entrance of the bakery where a sunshine child was stood next to his blonde workmate, head tilted as he gauged Zayn's reaction, pink lips quirked up a bit at the corners, expectantly, almost as if offering up some type of challenge.

Zayn didn't take the bait.

"Ah," he simply mumbled, quickly tearing his gaze away, "in that case, you guys should probably go on without me. Get a table. I'll close up and meet you there when I'm finished."

He didn't do that either.

He ended up giving Neo some bullshit excuse about a roommate emergency of some kind or some shit like that instead. He can't quite remember, but he knows that it was the first of many.

He mentally curses Louis that he can't use that one anymore, as he feels that it would really come in handy at this very moment, but there's always the 'I just can't possibly leave work right now' which is just about as good, he guesses. The question is whether or not he should actually use it.

"Hey, did you hear me?" Niall calls into the phone once it's been a minute or two since Zayn's last said anything. "I said that Harry just walked into Malee's," he repeats, "where you're meeting me for lunch," slowly as if uttering it that way will help him better comprehend. "Just thought that I'd warn you since you two have your whole weird frenemy thing going."

He still hasn't a clue how to reply.

On the one hand, he's thinking that of course Harry Fucking Styles would show up just when he thought that he was in the clear, just when he'd finally gotten him out of sight and (mostly) out of mind.

But on the other hand, he's solemnly considering Niall's words– words that weren't accompanied by pleas for him to come along with him and Harry like Lana's were two weeks ago when the two of them were planning to go grocery shopping together, words that weren't tainted by glances away from him and feeble mumbles into his hand that he and Harry were going out for drinks like Liam's were the last time that he met up for coffee with Zayn, words that weren't just general invitations to dinner because Harold was making it (and so it would actually be edible) like Louis' were last week.