Life of the Party {A One Direction Fan Fiction}

Chapter 24

February

Delia's P.O.V.

How was I supposed to tell him? This wasn't something you just came out and said, this had to be done carefully. This wasn't exactly the timing I was hoping for either. I mean really people were just finding out we'd dated in the past, and time was running out. If I didn't tell him, the media was going to figure it out and that's how he was going to find out.

My stomach rumbled again and I groaned as I got out of bed and went into the kitchen. Why did meat sound so good right now? It was 11 AM for crying out loud.

I found the leftover chicken from last night and heated it in microwave. As I waited for it to cook I saw a note from Zayn.

Del,

We've got a lot going on today, I'm going to be really late. Don't wait up for me.

I love you,

Zayn

So much for planning on telling him tonight. I sighed and pulled my chicken out and bit into the dry meat. Meat was never as good as leftovers.

I looked at myself in the mirror as I finished brushing my teeth in the bathroom. I had to tell him tonight. I didn't have another choice. Soon enough, it was going to become obvious and I was going to be stuck.

I sat on the couch, running through options of how to tell him. I decided it needed to be tonight. If I didn't do it tonight, I didn't do it at all. But I couldn't just spit it out the second he walked through the door, especially when he was exhausted and stressed about this album. This timing was horrible.

I was making myself sick to my stomach as I thought so I just lay there all day in silence. I didn't use my phone that kept buzzing next to me, I didn't turn on the TV, I just simply lay there, worrying about how this was going to go over with him.

You just have to tell him, I told myself. He loves you, he won't freak out. He'll be OK. Worst case scenario, he's a little upset but he gets over it.

But was that true? No it wasn't.

Worst case scenario would be if he got so upset, and mad he kicked me out and I was left to fend for myself in London. I didn't want to imagine he would be this way, but God, this was such terrible timing and he just had so much on his plate. I could just picture it, him coming in, exhausted and stressed and me dumping this on him. I saw his face in my mind growing red with anger before he screamed at me to get out as he ran to our room. I could feel the cold January night air as I walked outside, heard the thumps that meant he had put my suitcases on the porch for me to work out how to carry. I could feel the tears running down my cheeks, feel the pain in my heart. I shook the image away. He wouldn't be that cold.

Next worst would be he freaks and lets me stay, but our relationship is over. A rational part of me was thinking that this would never happen, but I could hear him yelling at me, blaming me for it, breaking up with me but telling me he couldn't throw me out. I was allowed to stay, but as a friend only. I could hear him stomping up to our room, throwing all my stuff in my bags and taking it to the room down the hall. I could feel the still coldness of that room as I walked in, the foreignness.

Was it possible that he would freak out at me, but keep our relationship going? I heard the same yelling and screaming as I sat quietly, willing myself not to cry. I had accepted it was OK to be open and vulnerable, but I still hated crying. It made me feel too weak. I could hear him just tromping around the flat, muttering to himself before he finally came back to me and said he was willing to work with me on everything. I mean did he have a choice? But God, again with this god damn timing. How the hell did I end up in this situation?