VII

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~Monday~
Harry
When I arrived at work on Monday morning, I wasn't looking forward to working near Zayn all day because of the way we'd left off on Saturday.

As I approached our cubicle, I noticed a box sitting on top of Zayn's desk.

Immediately, I began to think the worst.

"Zayn, I'm sorry." I blurted out as he walked up. "You don't have to quit your job just because of...what's going on with us." I said, watching him frown.

"What?" He asked.

"I...saw the box." I said, nodding towards it.

Zayn blinked, stepping closer and looking at it.

"I didn't put that there. I just got here." He said, positioning himself in front of the box and starting to open it.

"What's going on?" Louis asked, walking up to us.

"Zayn got a package." I informed him, watching Zayn lift a large, expensive looking sketchbook out of the box, along with a case of various artistic pencils and pens.

"I got a letter, too." Zayn said, pulling an envelope out of the box.

He tore open the envelope, and I watched his eyes as he read the short letter.

"They're from that businessman my parents want me to go and see. He wants to interview me." Zayn explained.

"Let me see." Louis said, taking the letter from Zayn and squinting at it.

"A gift for you, I hope you'll come and see me soon so we can talk." Louis read, frowning.

"My parents really want me to go and let him interview me. He's apparently interested in the work I do here." Zayn told us.

"They say he's rich." Zayn added, putting everything back inside the box.

"Why would he send you art supplies if he's interested in the work you do here?" Louis asked.

Zayn shrugged, setting the box on the floor beneath his desk. "I don't plan on going anytime soon anyway." He mumbled.

He sat at his desk and started working, causing the conversation to end.

"Harry, d'you want to come get coffee with me?" Louis asked, nodding toward the break room.

"Sure." I said quietly, glancing at Zayn before I followed him.

"I can just feel that something's gone wrong. What'd you do?" He asked me, pouring himself a cup of coffee.

"Why d'you automatically assume it's me that's done something wrong?" I asked, folding my arms.

"Just a guess." Louis mumbled, his back to me.

I sighed, finding myself glancing at his bum again.

Why'd he always wear such tight trousers to work?

"Personally, I don't think I've done anything wrong." I said, wanting to make that clear.

"Alright, tell me what happened, then." He said, bending over to pick up a spoon he'd dropped.

I averted my eyes, trying to focus.

Eventually, I managed to explain to Louis what happened with Zayn and I yesterday, feeling even more confused after hearing myself explain it.

Honestly, all I wanted was to have sex. I hadn't meant for all of this to happen, or for myself to get caught up in this.

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