29. Cracked

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(Zayn's POV)

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(Zayn's POV)

If nothing goes to plan, then at least I'll know where we stand.

Everything has been so unclear and taking the title of boyfriend and girlfriend has done nothing — changed nothing. Everything is so stagnant, I don't know how to push through to the next level anymore.

Even though things haven't changed, this feeling of need for her to stay, after everything, is still here. I just wish I could know what she's thinking. Isa is really the only person I have in my life besides my mother and I don't want to lose her.

Tonight, I'm planning to take her to dinner and then I'm going to try to see how she's feeling about all of this.

It's 5:30 and I'm standing at the door in my black button-up shirt and black skinny jeans, waiting for Isa to come to the front room and follow me to the car.

We don't have reservations but I doubt the restaurant will be very busy on a Wednesday night. As time passes, I begin to wonder if she's forgotten or changed her mind about coming. It isn't until I see her shiny brown hair appear from the hallway that I realize that she has certainly not forgotten.

Her wavy hair flows loosely off of her exposed shoulders and leads my eye down to her torso where her deep purple dress hugs her tight and then melts down her hips.

I swallow hard, taken back by her appearance. She's always beautiful — she just has natural beauty. But this, this is different than her normal beauty. It's the kind of beautiful that makes me shiver slightly and think back to school dances where I'd be too afraid to ask a girl like her to dance. Inferior. But when she smiles, that feeling subsides and returns a grateful feeling.

"Sorry... I couldn't find my shoes... I never wear these but I guess I just wanted to dress up a bit tonight." She smiles from ear to ear.

Does she know the way she makes me feel?

"You look beautiful."

Her cheeks glow red and she looks down to her shoes, unsure of how to take the compliment.

"You look very handsome."

"I would have dressed up a bit nicer had I know you'd be looking like this." I chuckle.

"There's no need. You look perfect."

Her approval feels nice — for some reason, I didn't expect it to feel this nice.

"Ready to go?" I ask rocking back on my heels, anxious to take my eyes off of her so I don't get too excited about how she look in that dress.

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