Dead (A Harry Styles Fanfiction)

Part 8

"E-E-Ellia," Zayn stutters, watching you and Harry intently, "what's happening?" You freeze for lack of words.

"It's not what it looks like," you say calmly, "this was all a mistake."

Zayn stares at you, motionlessly, and says, "No. Don't. Please don't."

"Zayn, please," you shout at Zayn, "Zayn, it's not what it looks like!"

Zayn stares into your eyes and says, "Really? Really, Ellia? I think it is." He storms away.

You immediately jump out if bed and throw on a bathrobe. You run after Zayn to your front lawn.

"Zayn! Please listen to me!" You are now in tears.

"Why?!" He shouts loud enough for the whole neighborhood to hear you two.

You hear a door open behind you. You turn around to see Harry wearing a bathrobe, walking to you.

"Zayn, please," you cry, "please give me one more chance."

Zayn's eyes soften. They turn from eyes of hatred, to eyes of pity. He steps close to you and hugs you. You cry onto his masculine shoulder. Your tears roll down his shirt, clinging to his abs.

"Come on," Zayn says, guiding you toward the house, "let's go inside."

He reaches his arm around your shoulder and holds you close to his chest, beating alongside yours.

You both turn around to see Harry watching you walk away. Zayn walks so close to him that they could practically kiss.

"If you ever-"

"Zayn," you say calmly, getting his attention, "please don't."

He backs away from Harry, keeping eye contact. Once he reaches you, he takes you under his arm and walks away, kissing you on the head.