lifeguard ● harry styles au

eight- fall

eight- fall

song for this chapter: "don't stop" by 5sos

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Zayn's hazel eyes widened when he saw me - never had his long eyelashes had to stretch so far. His lips parted slightly and if it wasn't for the rush of the ocean beside us, I would have heard his sharp intake of breath.

"Ivy." It was not a question, nor a form of greeting, it was a statement; the simple word thick with disappointment, in himself I can only assume.

"Zayn." I responded, taking a step backwards.

He swallowed and I looked away from his tense posture, wishing the world would swallow me up.

"I can explain." He said.

I attempted to release a bitter laugh, but it sounded more hurt than menacing.

"Explain what?"

Was there anything to explain? Zayn lied to me, that's it. I didn't feel anything more than friendship for Zayn, seeing him attached to Emma didn't make me twist in jealousy or anything, but we were friends. Best friends, and he blew me off for her.

"Well, ehm," he started, swallowing too often. "My aunt cancelled the trip."

"Zayn don't feed me another damn lie!" I spat, again, with less anger than intended. His cheeks reddened slightly and I'd like to think that if Emma wasn't nearly unconscious in his arms then Zayn would come over to me and make it right.

But he stood three metres away, not uttering a word.

"You know what?" I started, shutting my eyes to restrain the tears that so desperately wanted to escape. "I don't even care, good night Zayn."

I bit my lip hard and fortunately, my cries began just as I turned away from him. With all the strength I could muster, I started to run across the sand, away from him. Part of me thought I was being selfish, and over exaggerating. I'm getting mad because Zayn spent time with another person? Should I blame him for wanting some time with other people?

My rational mind was starting to kick in, but the adrenaline of the wind in my hair and the blurring colours of my surroundings dashing past me, I didn't care. I was just hurt, because everybody leaves me eventually, it seems. Whether it's a stupid night out with Emma like Zayn, or dying, leaving the family behind like my mother.

• Harry's P.O.V (a/n woooah) •

The evening was turning out quite nice, really - far nicer and warmer than I could have ever imagined in England. My heart throbbed slightly at the thought of my home, with Gemma. Just weeks ago, I was on the other side of the world. I'll go back soon though, when this situation I've helplessly got myself into dies down. If it dies down.

I strolled along the high cliffs, both hands dug in the pockets of my shorts. I could hear the waves crashing against the cliffs beneath me, spitting water in the air and spraying the droplets back down again. There was nobody else here; just me, the orange tinged grass and the sinking sun, inches from the horizon.

The back of my shins began to ache after a few more minutes walking so after brushing a few twigs away from a circle of grass, I sat myself down and stared out at the ocean. I've done this walk every evening since I moved here, and I plan to keep doing so. The sky was always perfect at this time, blunt red colours cascading down the sky and random blue lines splitting the air from the countless planes roaming above. The sun, vastly disappearing, was leaving a tinge of yellow in the sky, and for whatever reason, it reminded me of Ivy's hair. But her hair was more golden, and smooth. I knew that I shouldn't keep thinking about her, but recently I couldn't seem to stop.