Change Me | Hariana

Forget The Past

Chapter 32: Forget The Past

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Zayn's Pov:

I leant on the door frame, steadying my posture as I began examining Harry's kept position on the knee length stool, staring dependently at what seemed to be a fan letter, on his hand. Without acknowledging my presence, I slightly knocked on the opened door finally grabbing his attention.

Pushing myself off the wall, I began to take cunning strides towards him as he began reading the letter once more. Stopping myself directly in front of him, blocking the lamp that was the only visible light in the studio, I titled my head thinking he would probably look up by now, but he only kept his eyes locked with the ripped notebook paper, his face softening and hardening in different times as he didn't remove his gaze away.

"Hey," I attempted to tear his concentration away from the paper, but clearly the letter was more important than me since he just nodded in a sign of greeting.

"We're leaving in an hour or so to go to the club," I tried again in hope that he will look my way in show of care of my words. Woah. Sounding like a shy fangirl much Zayn?

He nodded, his eyebrows arched in a frown despite the fact that he was still staring at the paper.

Seeing his quiet state, I easily felt intimidated since it took me back to one of his darkest hours back when he was at his worst.

"Do you miss her?" I asked speculating if he was thinking silently in mind about what he did to Ariana or doubtless viewing the memories they both shared together.

There was bit quietness in the air before he elevated his head and began staring at me keenly. That gaze that made you tense in position. That stare that was in no shame to make you feel like you are an outcast. That stare that he used to look through people's real emotion. Also, that stare that I have the power to overshadow.

"Of course I do."

He tore his eyes away from mine and began to look at the paper in hand smiling, his dimple screening, probably because of the reminiscences he held in mind.

Just as I opened my mouth to ask how he was dealing to get Ariana back, he continued his sentence, more of talking to himself than me.

"I miss her giggles at my jokes that only she seems to get. I miss the pout she wore whenever she is angry towards me. I miss those little hands of her that fitted perfectly into mine. I miss her brown hair that fell perfectly on her shoulders...."

"Wait what?"

As I listened vaguely at his words, I blocked him instantly when he illustrated a characteristic that Ariana didn't seem to share. Ariana didn't have brown hair that only went to shoulder length; she had auburn hair that flowed all the way down her back.

He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion on my sudden interruption of his admiration of her and lingered for me to explain why I did so.

Fully grasping that he wasn't chatting about Ariana, I now had concluded on whom he was talking about and I didn't know if I should be saddened at him or feel sorry for Ariana.

"Are you talking about Sophia?" a hint of anger seems to cover my voice as I watch his eyes dilate and as he hesitantly nodded.

Closing my eyes and whispering calming words in mind to put me in a right state, I opened them once more, facing Harry who watched me carefully.

"Harry what's wrong with you," I said trying to manage my attitude, but by his remained confound expression I feel like any minute now I am about to burst into a fit.