Running late for work is bad enough on its own. Running into Zayn at Amanda's desk is even worse.
Though normally I would stop by her desk to say good morning, I don't bother to do so this morning as I head straight to my office room. I can feel Amanda's eyes on me along with Zayn's, but seeing that I'm not exactly in a good mood, I ignore both of them.
Much to my dismay, my door doesn't close behind me because standing by the doorframe is none other than Zayn Malik who suddenly shows up in my life ever so often.
"What do you want?" I question as I take a seat on my chair and immediately turn on my laptop so I have an excuse not to look at him.
"You're never late to work," he quips, further annoying me with his words whilst he takes another step towards me. Once he's close enough, he pulls out a chair to sit in front of me and adds, "Your husband forgot to wake you up?"
"No, he did actually," I reply and at that, he kinks an eyebrow questioningly, "We ended up taking a shower together which explains why I'm late." That's obviously a lie. Nevertheless, I've never been more proud of myself for coming up with that in under a second – go Beverly.
A smirk threatens to take over my lips when I see the slight frown that appears between Zayn's brows. Why he, all of sudden, thinks he needs to know everything that is going on with my life, I haven't a clue. And I don't think I want to know either.
"That doesn't sound like you," he remarks as though to prove that he still remembers little facts about me. A part of me weakens at the thought of that, making me realise that I've been nothing but unpleasant to him since I saw him.
Granted, it's so much easier to focus on the annoyance I've harboured since the moment I wake up only to find out that I have fifteen minutes to get myself prepared for work and that's the emotion I choose to display as I speak to Zayn. It makes things easier.
"Why are you here, Zayn?" I ask him, an exasperated sigh threatening to escape my throat. Be annoyed, Beverly, be annoyed.
"You really do hate me, don't you?"
"Don't put words in my mouth," I warn him, the pucker between my brows materialise as I frown. Despite the anger, the infuriation that run through my blood each time I think of him and the fact that he's getting married soon, I can't deny that I still have a soft spot for him. I won't ever admit that to anyone, though.
"So you don't hate me?"
"Why are you here?" I repeat as I pinch the bridge of my nose, exasperation coursing through my blood. After all the months spent convincing myself that Zayn can never affect me anymore, I've come to a realisation that maybe it needs to take longer than months. After all, he used to be someone I was in love with and the same person who shattered my heart. "You're the one who suggested that it's best if we don't see each other anymore."
He leans forward and rests his arms on my desk. Frowning, he sighs, "You know I don't mean that."
"You don't?" I cock an eyebrow at him.
Another sigh escapes his mouth and he rubs the back of his neck, a sign that he's about to say something I won't like. "I just- I don't feel like Harry's the right guy for you, Beverly."
"Oh?" I can't believe it. Out of all the things he could've said, he chooses that.
"It's just.. There's something about him, Bev, it doesn't sit right with me and I-"
I refuse to let him finish his sentence, for I know it'll only add fuel to the fire so I decide to interject, "It only doesn't sit right with you because I'm bloody happy with him, isn't it? Well guess what, I don't need your approval nor do I need your opinion."
