desolate | styles

t h r e e

Harry.

Her name left my lips in a messy stutter before I could manage to form her name properly. She noticed my slip and giggled, "Are you okay?" She asked calmly, a contrast to my heart which thudded against my rib cage.

"Yeah, I'm just surprised," I trailed off. "Where's Zayn?" I asked her curiously as I maneuvered my way around my desk. She hastily pushed herself back to her feet and shrugged. "I don't know. I assumed he'd be in here, but when he wasn't I decided to wait," she explained. "I hope you don't mind."

I greeted her worried look with a tight-lipped grin, a little hesitant as I suddenly remembered the porn I kept in one of my desk drawers; hopefully, her little paws didn't find them. "Not at all," I replied. Ramona grinned at my words and nodded, "Cool, thanks."

Still, I was rather confused since earlier I swore I had seen Zayn's car parked in the front. He must have stepped out with Liam to do God knows what. Ramona's innocent smile seemed to suggest she was waiting for me to say something else.

"So, you're seeing Jane," I hummed as I sat down in my office chair. The leather squeaked as I leaned back and watched Ramona sit herself down on the sofa. "What?" She looked up at me with confusion written on her face.

"Support group?" I clarified further, watching as her expression twisted. Ramona's eyes darted to her fingers which were playing with a flap of leather that was peeling off the arm of the couch.

"Oh yeah," She trailed off. "Jane."

"Yeah... Jane."

God, I was being terribly awkward with her. I could sense her discomfort from where I was sat with my finger between my teeth. It wasn't like I was meant to find out, after all. Our chance run-in with each other in Jane's office the other time revealed some of what I didn't know about this kind girl, and certainly, seeing me then did the same for her. I didn't want to pursue the subject much further, but it seemed to be the only thing we had in common at this point.

"She's nice," I decided to offer to fill the silence.

"Yeah," Ramona murmured. "Really nice. Zayn doesn't know about it, so..." She looked down at her hands quickly, ashamed. Staring at the crown of her head and her lowered shoulders, I could sense a silent plead not to ask her about why she was in Jane's support group. 

"I should call Zayn," I spoke up eventually as I pulled out my phone. Ramona nodded, softly smiling in silence as she watched me intently as I raised my phone to my ear.

"Hello," Zayn grunted from the other line.

"Hey mate, it's Harry." I said as he groaned, "I know– caller...id." I could sense Zayn rolling his eyes where he was. I chuckled, "Well sorry mate, I was wondering why you're not working right now. Ramona's here."

"We're in the- fuck Liam stop for a second," He hissed, before a hushed groan followed, "Liam, we've been caught." I pulled my phone away as their harboured breathing picked up its pace, cringing inwardly as I glanced at Ramona to see if she heard. Her attention seemed transfixed on her phone; her fingers dancing across the screen.

I moved far enough away to be out of earshot when I asked, "Are you seriously fucking in the middle of your shift?" I expected nothing less of the duo, but it didn't quell the annoyance that often stirred within me when the bare minimum of my expectations wasn't met.

"We aren't now," Liam cheerfully sang.

"You bastards, where are you two?" I asked them.

"Zayn's car." Liam replied. "We saw you walked in­­– nearly came," Liam trailed off before grunting in pain. "It's a joke, Zayn!"