Fights, Camera, Attraction // Zayn Malik

33 [Well slap me on the knee and call me Sally]

Starting Christmas Day with a hangover probably wasn't the brightest idea I've had. I can recall not even drinking for pleasure last night. I was trying to drown my sorrows, forget about the fact that Zayn and I were, yet again, growing apart.

I kissed Harry.

Shit.

Surprisingly though, it wasn't really awkward between us. We both knew it was a mistake, and in some ways I guess it was a good thing. Now we are both fully aware that we will never feel anything more for each other than best friendship.

I groaned as I slid out of bed. After I had a shower, I slipped into a red bodycon dress to represent Christmas, with lace patterned black tights and my black Dr Martens. After I had blow-dried and curled my hair into soft ringlets, I tied it up into a high messy ponytail and unenthusiastically applied my makeup. It was natural, consisting of winged eye liner on my top lid and mascara. I shuffled into the kitchen where I searched through the cabinets until I found some aspirin. I popped it into my mouth, before washing it down with a glass of water in my desperate attempts to discipline my untamed hangover. I wish I'd just sucked it up and stayed sober last night, instead of wallowing away in my own alcoholic hole of self pity. This hangover was not worth it.

“Merry Christmas, Dez,” I peered through the open window to see Liam wander into the room. He was wearing an open flannel shirt, with a plain black v neck underneath. Black skinny jeans fit snugly on his long legs, whilst his feet were clad in red high tops. His short curls were pushed back from his face, and even though it was early morning, his smile was still bright enough to light up the room.

“Merry Christmas, Leeloo,” I replied, joining him on the sofa. I rested my head on his shoulder; it was pretty conspicuous that I was exhausted.

“Another hangover, Dez?” he asked amusedly.

“You bet,” I nodded, although it was already beginning to diminish. Thank you, inventor of Aspirin.

“You should know better than to drink so much, Dez. Know your limit!” he scolded playfully.

“Yes, Daddy Payne,” I joked. He chuckled lightly, just as Niall skipped in.

“Happy Holidays, Merry Christmas, whatever offends you less!” he chimed. We chuckled quietly as he flaunted into the kitchen to make breakfast.

“You guys want anything?” he called through the window. Liam and I both asked for a coffee – Niall knew how we liked them. Liam also asked for a slice of toast and jam. I, however, didn't really feel like eating anything. I yelped in surprise from the sound of the front door of the bus slamming shut. A tired looking Louis emerged from the narrow hallway, ripping off his grey beanie. Dark bags were present under his eyes, and his face was blanched. He smiled at us once he noticed us watching him, but it didn't reach his eyes.

“Hey Boo, where were you so early?” I enquired curiously.

“I had to take El back to the airport. She could only stay for my birthday, she said she promised to celebrate Christmas with her family”.

“Aw, come here, Lou,” I cooed sympathetically, holding my arms out for him. He approached me and collapsed onto the space on the sofa next to me, as I enveloped him into a cuddle. We stayed like that for a while, as Liam turned on the TV and all four of us sat watching for a bit. Niall handed Liam and I our coffees (and Liam his slice of toast) and I sipped on mine occasionally, before placing the nearly empty mug on the table in front of us. Harry was soon to trudge in. He was wearing a plain white shirt, which he somehow managed to pull off considerably well. The ink splayed over his body was visible from underneath it, and the swallow tattoos underneath his collarbones peeked out from under the neckline. He also wore black skinny jeans, much like Liam's, except they had rips in the knees.