𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐍𝐓 || 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐒𝐓𝐘𝐋𝐄𝐒

Chapter Six

Two warm mugs of hibiscus tea were sat in front of me and my friend, Isabella. She was visiting for the afternoon and while we talked, the subject of Harry came up.

Isabella, nor any of my other friends, had never met Harry. But she knew about my relationship with him, and what he meant to me.

"I don't know what to do," I told her as I crossed my legs in the kitchen chair. "I'm over Harry. Completely over him. But he just... He still makes me crazy."

Isabella shook her head.

She smiled a friendly smile and said, "Doesn't sound like you're over him, Taissa. And I don't blame you. You two were together for, what, three years? To some people, that may not seem like a long time but you sound like you were both in love. And," she sighed, another smile creeping onto her chubby face. "Love can either make time feel like it's going by way too fast, or it can make it feel like every day you spend with that person is a lifetime."

Of course she would know. She'd been with her boyfriend since before she could drive a car.

"You're probably right," I told her. "About the time thing, I mean. Not about me not being over Harry."

Isabella laughed.

"Taissa, if there's one thing I've come to know about you, and I say this as a friend, it's that you're always the one to give more. Sometimes, I tell Mark that I worry about you. You're the nicest person to walk this earth and I don't want anyone to hurt you."

Isabella reached across the table. She took my hand in hers and have it a gentle squeeze.

"Thank you," I smiled.

"Don't over-think anything, alright? You'll figure it out, eh?"

"Yeah. I will."

•

Isabella and I chatted a little longer before she had to leave. Her boyfriend, Mark, had planned to take her out for a romantic dinner and I couldn't help but envy what they had. They were perfect together.

After she left, I decided to catch up on some episodes of Breaking Bad. I had only just gotten halfway into the first episode when there was a knock at the door. Other than Isabella, I wasn't expecting any company.

Heaving a sigh as I pulled myself off the sofa, I walked to the front door, pulled it open and was utterly confused when I saw Zayn standing there. He looked unbothered, like showing up at my apartment was the most normal thing in the world.

"Hey, how's it going?" He asked, pushing himself off the door frame.

"It was all well until about three seconds ago," I answered, stepping aside to let him in, shutting the door after he had taken my spot on the sofa. "How do you know where I live?"

Zayn, with a genuine look of admiration, took in the sight of my very small apartment. When his eyes met mine, the slightest twinkle of joy was in them.

"I have my sources." He shrugged. I crossed my arms and gave him a pointed look. He chuckled at my expression, shaking his head as he did so. "Relax," he said. "Nancy told me."

"Well do you mind explaining why you're here?"

"If you asked nicely."

I wasn't in the mood for games. He interrupted my Me Time and I was simply not in the mood to speak to him. But Zayn had always been a stubborn one so my guess was that he wouldn't be leaving right away.

I sat down on the other side of the couch, my body turned so I was facing him.

"That was nicely," I told him, rolling my eyes.

Zayn said, "Fine. I was at Harry's place this morning before he'd gone to work and he told me that he was afraid he'd done something. Said you seemed upset when you left on Saturday."

My face scrunched up, partly annoyed that this was somehow Zayn's business, and partly because I didn't want to admit that my mood on Saturday had soured from Harry's choice to bring up the past. His apology to me was unnecessary and unwanted.

"Okay," I said. "I wasn't upset about anything. And even if I was, what has any of that got to do with you?"

Zayn leaned back.

"You on your lady-thing?" he asked, a smirk playing on his lips. "Is it that time of the month?"

The nerve of that guy! Jaw dropping and eyes widening, I grabbed one of the small pillows that was beside me and hit him with it. As if I couldn't stand him before, now he'd really done it!

Zayn laughed. "I'm sorry, Taissa. That was rude of me. But seriously. You seem off."

I brought the pillow that I had just hit him with against my body for comfort. I tucked my hair behind my ear, shrugging my shoulders.

"I'm fine," I said quietly.

I wasn't really. But I was not going to say so. My insecurities were just that. Mine. Zayn, regardless of how shitty he treated me years ago, didn't deserve to hear about my self loathing. Or about how lonely I was. Besides, it's not like he would have cared anyway.

"I don't get it," I said after a while. "You and Harry haven't seen me in four blooming years and the minute you both do, you two think that I'm still the same person. That I'm so transparent and wear my heart on my sleeve or something."

Zayn sighed.

"If it makes you feel any better, I didn't come over here just for Harry's sake."

My eyebrows rose in curiosity.

"What did you come for then? To torture me?"

The corner of my mouth turned upwards in a half smile. I wasn't as annoyed as when he'd first gotten to my apartment but I still wanted to be alone to watch my show.

He smiled. It was the kind of smile someone puts on when their mind is off on some nostalgia ride, remembering simpler times.

"Remember how you and I hated each other? Like, no matter what we and our friends were doing together, it was always you and me bickering about something stupid?"

"I remember, and I still hate you." I smiled and he smiled back.

"Right. Well I'm sorry for the way I treated you before."

I stared at him, quite shocked to hear those words come out of his mouth. His apology caught me off guard and I didn't know how to respond.

He laughed and said, "I think an 'I forgive you, Zayn' is in order."

"Ha ha," I said.

For a few seconds, although it felt like hours, neither of us said anything. But because it was more than obvious that he wasn't going to leave and I didn't want us to repeat everything we did back then, I asked if he'd like to get something to eat with me.

"You're asking me on a date?" He asked when I had gotten up from the sofa.

"No," I told him sternly. "We're just two people having dinner together."

"Just two people, eh? Not even gonna consider us friends, are you?" Zayn placed a hand on his chest, feigning hurt. I laughed a little. "That's rough, T."

Raising my eyebrows, I told him, "Until we've proven to each other and ourselves that we can get along fine, then maybe I'll consider it. But for now, we're just two people."