Harry Styles
"Are you okay?"
I refuse to uncover my eyes, not wanting to see the aftermath of Zayn's outrage. His voice didn't bring me any comfort either, so I flinched away when I felt his hands on my elbow.
I hear the commotion around me, whispering and even some laughing, but Zayn's cologne is so close, and the warmth that is practically radiating off of his body is intoxicating. I take a deep breath, feeling almost lightheaded by his scent as I finally lower my hands from my face.
I just barely catch a glimpse of the scene in front of me, of splattered blood and broken tiles, before Zayn's hand is covering my face once more.
"Don't look. I don't want you to faint again."
His other hand rests on the dip of my waist and I take a deep breath, reluctantly letting him guide me out of the bathroom. There's still voices floating around, some yelling for Zayn to come back and others asking if the guy—presumably the one with his head through the tiles—is okay.
It feels like hours before his hand finally leaves my face, and I blink a few times before turning my body so I can face the older boy properly.
He's still as pretty as usual, with those incredibly high cheekbones and full pink lips. There's no godly reason why someone should be that attractive. It's not fair in the slightest.
It does make me feel a little better about my crush, though. At least it was justified... right?
Right.
"Are you okay?" he asks in a small voice, his other hand trailing down my hip before finally dropping down to his side. It takes me a minute to gather my thoughts, still in shock from bumping into Zayn and the bloody mess he left behind in the bathroom.
"I am fine. That guy isn't. You know you're probably going to get kicked out for that, right?" I finally ask, taking a step away from him as I rubbed my hands over my face and smoothed out my ruffled clothing.
"Nah. I know the owner, he'll be on my side," Zayn explains with a shrug and... of course, that makes sense. No normal person would think it's okay to break a wall with someone's head unless they know they won't get in trouble for it.
"Right. Well, when he decides to press charges for breaking his face, I hope the jury's on your side too," I mumble, rolling my eyes and walking around him so I can find my way back to my table.
Jesus. If Nick knew Zayn was here right now, he'd throw a fit.
Maybe it's best if we leave anyway. This really was turning out to be the worst date ever, just as I expected.
"Hey! Wait—"
He grabs my arm to stop me but the look on my face when I turn around to glare at him must be just as intense as the emotions I'm feeling on the inside because he immediately drops my arm when our eyes meet, his throat bobbing as he gulps.
"Don't touch me." I roll my eyes, beginning to walk away from him again.
"Harry-"
"No. Stop talking."
"But if you would just—"
"Does the word 'no' not register in your brain?" I yell, stopping in my tracks to turn around and face him once again, "because this isn't the first time you've had trouble with that."
"I just want to talk to you," Zayn mumbles quietly, a sheepish expression on his face that I'm 100% not buying.
"I said no."
"Just for a moment."
"About what?!" I snap, and immediately flush red when I notice a few heads in the dining room watching us intently. I completely forgot we were in a restaurant.
"Just... come on." He takes my hand in his and leads me down a hallway to a door with a large red exit sign above it.
He pushes the door open and ushers me outside, the setting sun reflecting a golden hue against the city. It would be nice to admire if it weren't for the current situation at hand.
"Zayn, what are we doing out here?" I ask, exhausted and tired of his antics. I let go of his hand before continuing. "I know how this goes. You sweet talk me, I forgive you, we're fine for a couple of days until you do something else to hurt me, and then we fight."
"Well, if you would just let me speak and apologize-" He tries to explain but I cut him off.
"I don't want your apology! I don't want anything from you. Why can't you just leave me alone?"
I'm practically begging at this point, my voice giving out near the end. I just want him to leave me alone.
He stares at me for a long time after that, his eyebrows furrowed as though he were in deep concentration. "Because... I can't get you out of my head and I don't know what to do about it."
Those words make my heart flutter in my chest and that's exactly what I was afraid of.
Butterflies.
I can't do this again, though. I'm so tired of this game with him. I can't let myself fall back into his trap.
"You should have thought about that when I asked how you felt about me," I murmur quietly, averting my gaze down to the sidewalk cement.
"I don't know how I feel about you, Harry. I didn't then and I don't now..."
He takes a step closer to me and I step back without missing a beat, my back hitting the door behind me. I immediately look around at the alley we're in, not wanting to be caught in this already compromising position by anyone.
I finally meet his eyes again, only to find him staring right back at me with a look of pure determination on his face. I swallow the lump in my throat, crossing my arms.
"It doesn't matter anymore. I'm over you," I lie as smoothly as I can, not missing the way his mouth twitches at the corner.
"I don't believe you," he bites back.
"You don't have to, but I am. So you should just move on too."
"You're not done with me," he practically snarled, taking another step closer and resting his hands against the door on either side of me, bracketing me in.
"You don't get to decide that for me. I'm on a date right now, anyway, so if you could—"
"With who?" he barked, a fire behind his eyes that wasn't there seconds ago.
"Does it matter?"
"Wha—of course it fucking matters! Who are you on a date with?" he demands, reaching up to run his long fingers through his thick hair. The way it falls back into his face, dancing across his flawless skin with the wind, is just cruel.
I refuse to answer, setting my jaw firmly as I stare back at him. That seems to confirm the answer in his mind.
"it's fucking Nick, isn't it? Jesus christ, Harry. When are you going to realize that guy is a fucking loser?" He throws his head back, staring up at the sky as though trying to keep his cool.
"Oh, like you're any better! You have me pinned in an alley way trying to convince yourself that I still have feelings for you when I don't!" I shout back, pushing at his chest. He responds by grabbing my hands, holding my palms firm against his chest.
"Let go of me," I whisper weakly but he doesn't budge.
"Kiss me," he demands, his voice quiet but firm. My eyes widen at his request, eyebrows knitted together in confusion.
"W-What?"
"You heard me. Kiss me."
"A-Are you crazy? I'm not kissing you in the middle of an alley."
"Stop making excuses. If you're really over me, then one kiss won't hurt," he explains calmly, his eyes flickering between mine and my lips.
I already know where this is headed. We all do. (Fourth wall break, hello.) That doesn't stop me from resisting a little longer.
"No."
"Please. If you're really over me, then one kiss won't hurt," he bargains and I shake my head quickly.
"Absolutely not."
"Just give me one more chance. Right now. One kiss. If you really don't feel anything... then I promise I won't ever bother you again," Zayn says seriously and I watch him for a few moments, feeling my resolve slowly begin to melt away.
My gaze falls to his lips subconsciously, bright pink and framed by his unkempt facial hair that somehow still looks effortlessly gorgeous. I hate him. No one should be allowed to be this pretty.
"Just one," he whispers again, gripping my hands together in one of his own before leaning in close, resting a heavy hand on my hip that keeps me pinned against the door.
He ducks down to my neck and I gasp when I feel his soft lips grazing against my skin. I shiver, goosebumps appearing as he begins to press light kisses along the junction of my neck and shoulder.
"Zayn..." I whimper, my eyes slipping shut as I try to ignore the irregular beating of my heart in my chest. He's so close, his beard is tickling my skin and he smells like cigarettes and vanilla and... something familiar. I can't quite get my thoughts together, distracted by the feeling of his teeth scraping against my neck.
I rest my head back against the door, letting my eyes slip shut as he begins to kiss along my jaw.
"Harry—"
"Fine," I mumble quickly, dropping my head forward. His face is so close to mine and looking at him, I knew something like this would happen. As soon as I walked through the door with him, I knew.
And as much as I tried to resist... it was futile.
"Is that a yes?" he asks, a small smile tugging at his lips and it was really inhuman how attractive he was.
I nod briefly, but he just lets go of my hands and places his other hand on my hip as well, pressing me even further into the door. "I need you to say it..." he murmurs as he leans down once more, brushing his nose against my jaw.
"Zayn... just fucking kiss me," I grumble, gripping his t-shirt in my hand before pulling him against me, not missing the way he smirked before connecting our lips.
I forgot how good it felt when I kissed him.
One moment it's gentle, his soft lips moving against mine so slowly it felt as though he were savoring every minute, every taste, every breath shared between us. And then I take a second to breathe and his tongue is climbing inside of me, licking into my mouth and claiming every possible inch he could reach.
His hands begin to explore my body, fingers dipping under my shirt and traveling up my torso. It feels like dancing with him, so different from the kiss I shared with Nick earlier.
He bites at my lip roughly and I whimper into his mouth. He presses himself between my legs and I tug at his hair gently. He gives and I take everything he has to offer.
But the more I begin to pant and catch my breath, the more I breathe in his scent and an unsettling feeling begins to form in the pit of my stomach. I know that smell from somewhere. It's woody and floral and tart... and it hits me.
It's the Daisy perfume by Marc Jacobs. Eau so Fresh.
It's Carmen's perfume.
"W-Wait, Zayn," I whimper, pulling away from him as my mood begins to sour. The scent reminds me of a friendship that was now lost to me, and it still hurts to realize I lost one of the people I consider my best friend over the person gripping my ass right now.
"Seriously, stop. This isn't right—"
Surprisingly, he does remove his lips from mine but the next voice I hear doesn't belong to Zayn.
"Harry?"
I turn my head and feel Zayn's grip tighten against me as we both catch sight of Nick standing only meters away from us.
—✧—
A/N: hehehe we love a good cliff hanger ❤️ newayz what y'all think? let me know mwah 💋