killer instinct - || h.s. ||

73

" you make me feel like a fool, waiting for you "

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harry styles.

"It's at 7, Z," I nervously mumble while wandering down the hall with my phone tucked against my ear, anxiously rubbing the back of my neck while talking to my friend on the other end of the line.

It's been nearly 2 weeks since I've asked her on a date, and I've managed to deem this tonight the night.

Her bruises have faded almost completely now, simply sporting a pale shade of yellow around the scarred tissue from the stitches.

And the radiating pain within her knee has subsided as well as her slowing concussion. Though we're still being cautious, she's virtually back to herself again and that's all I could ask for. Truly, it manages to work itself out since my fight is next Friday, which leaves my girl and I all to ourselves tonight.

But I'd be lying if I said I wasn't losing my goddamn mind with every passing second today.

The whole 9 goddamn yards. Fuck me.

"Relax, alright? You know her, it's already casual," Zayn calms me through the phone while unclipping my keys from the belt loop. The jingling sound echoes across the hall with my harsh scoff, leisurely unlocking the front door to my loft before stepping into its stillness.

Since she wanted the whole thing, the two of us decided to split up and meet up at the restaurant downtown as if this were the first thing we did — like normal people.

But the brutal reality of her not being by my side hits me like a strident slap in the face, it's almost as if not understanding something without losing it. God, that night at the hospital was the worst of it.

"And if I fuck up? What the hell do I do then?" I roughly mumble while I set my keys on the marble countertop.

Zayn's rolling laugh seeps through the speaker and into my ear, eliciting an eye roll out of me as I begin trekking through the darkness, only illuminated by the silver light spilling in from the moon's own curiosity. "You're overthinking it, Styles, it's quite amusing actually," he chuckles to which I huff with every step I take to my bedroom above.

"Fuck off, alright? I've never done this before unless ..." I murmur out my thoughts to which Zayn snorts, quickly covering it up with a cough as I place him on speakerphone and set it on my dresser.

"Unless you wanted to hook up with them," he finishes my sentence for me while I glide open my closet door, now accompanied by half of my clothes and half of hers. "Okay, well, we can work with this ... I think?" He questions himself over the phone, listening to Gigi's rasping giggles muffle through the speaker beside him.

"Fuck's sake! Z–" I grit out as if they're simply sitting in the room with me, getting frustrated at them, myself, and the limited clothing selection before me.

"Harry, listen, you'll be fine, you'll both be fine. Just be nice, compliment her, and you have flowers, right?" Gigi chimes in.

"Yeah," I mindlessly hum as I draw out the casual, black suit from my closet. I wander back over to my dresser, laying out my suit onto the duvet.

I begin gradually replacing the casual clothes draped over me for the black button-down, black suit jacket, and these black dress pants that have an intricate pink flower embroidered on the hem towards the bottom.

I swipe on extra deodorant before sliding my dress shirt up to my shoulders, leaving it laid open to my bare skin beneath.

"See, it won't nearly be as bad as you think it will be," Zayn mumbles to me while I button the dress shirt up, deliberately leaving the top few undone before adjusting the cuff buttons at my wrist.