Your Creation • Zarry

62. Tell me your lies

I was starting to recognize far too many familiar emotions in that moment. It was like the beginning of 2015 all over again and I could feel myself growing more irritable by the second.

"Do you need a reminder or have you forgotten already?"

"I don't want to talk about this," I said.

"You don't want to talk about what, all the times you've lied to me? All the times you claimed you loved me, that you were thinking of me, but then you would go out all hours of the night and sleep on someone's couch or in someone's bed, forget to call me back and I find out through a bunch of random fucking people that you were all over someone? I'm not even going to list the names because you know who I'm talking about, but tell me...who else was there, Harry? You think I don't know, but I'm not stupid."

I felt my stomach drop.

"It wasn't like that..."

"Yes it bloody was like that."

"You were engaged!" I yelled, crossing my arms.

"I wasn't even engaged for fuck's sake! It wasn't going to happen, even Perrie knew that. I wasn't sleeping with her half the bloody time and when I had to, it was complete shit and she was faking it, too. We weren't allowed to end our relationship until I found a way out and you fucking knew that! I told you that and all I ever asked from you was the truth and you lied to me. It's just a rumor, Zayn. It wasn't what it looked like, Zayn. I don't have feelings for anyone else but you, Zayn... why do you think I stopped giving a fuck? All you ever did was sell me dreams about 'someday maybe' knowing that it was never going to happen."

I didn't even know what to say. I just sat there in silence, feeling my temperature rising as these memories came flooding back to me. The entire situation between us had been awfully toxic and deep down I knew that it wasn't the beautiful romantic comedy that I wished it was. The last stretch of our final year together in the band had really sent me into a spiral of doing some spiteful and petty things, especially when I had some drinks in me, because I was losing my patience. Jealousy was a beast of a flaw and it ruined my ego to feel so second rate and on top of that, Zayn didn't even want to be there, so by 2015 I had convinced myself that he just didn't care. We were such a mess.

"It felt like you didn't care about me anymore."

"Well, sometimes it felt like I didn't care about anything anymore. It wasn't just you."

"So why are you bringing all of this back up again. For what? Just to make me feel like shit?"

"No, it's just that when you don't talk to me for weeks it reminds me of stuff like this and it pisses me off," he explained.

I groaned and rubbed my temples, leaning my head back against the couch cushion. This was so frustrating. It's like we were caught in this never ending cycle of pointing fingers at who hurt has each other more, who's the one to blame, who was more wrong and right now Zayn was making me feel like it was all my fault.

"Seeing you and Gigi together all over the fucking place isn't exactly helping," I retaliated, leaning forward and grabbing the bottle of whiskey again.

"What do you want me to do Harry? Break up with her?"

"No, I just - "

"You just what?"

"You couldn't leave Perrie before but this time you aren't obligated to Gigi. You choose to stay with her. This is on you."

Zayn put out the joint and stared at me through half shut eyes as if I was a complete idiot.

"Don't guilt me. I waited for you to call me and you never did after you said some pretty hurtful shit to me, you never came back and apologized. I waited. So I found Gigi and she's good to me. You expect me to just drop everything for you now?"

"No, don't bother. I'm not worth it. I get it."

"You drive me up the fucking wall Harry, you know that right? God, I love you but - "

"But what?" I fired back.

"I just don't trust you."

"You don't trust me?"

"No, I don't."

I started to get up and grabbed my phone off the couch where it had fallen out of my pants. I didn't want to fight with him anymore and decided that that I was going to leave. If he didn't trust me then what was even the point of being there?

"Where are you going?" Zayn called out as I started stumbling away.

"I'm leaving," I growled.

He quickly ran up behind me and grabbed hold of my arm.

"You can't leave," he protested.

I whipped around and shot him a glare.

"And why the fuck not?"

"Because you've been drinking."

"I'm fine!"

"Shut up, you are not fine. Now go sit back down," Zayn scolded me, pointing to the couch like I was a child who was being put in time out.

I just stared him down. Zayn's expression was dead serious. His eyes were dark but still bloodshot, matching the red hooded sweatshirt that he was wearing. He balled his hand into a fist and held it with his other hand.

"I'm sorry. I don't want to fight with you," Zayn then said, his voice lowering as he took a step forward. "What can I do?" he asked me.

"Love me, please."