All is Fair: Zayn Malik Fanfiction

Chapter 28

We greet each other, and let me just say, it is the awkwardest encounter I have had with another human being on Earth ever. He looks fine. He relaxes onto the doorpost when he sees that it is me, crossing his arms and giving a confident smile.

I am terrified. I clutch the strap of my purse with both hands. I wish I could be like Zayn right now- totally relaxed while standing at his door, but I can't.

My throat is dry and my legs are locked. I cannot begin to think about what I could say to him. We stand at the door, both of us waiting for the other to say or do something. I should start the conversation, but the words I had prepared refuse to come to me when I need them. I cannot stop thinking that if I screw this up, I lose Harry, and there will be nothing I can do to get him back.

Regardless, Zayn finally says hi, after seconds of just staring at each other. From all that staring, I notice that he is wearing a simple blue long sleeve shirt and plaid pajama pants. He looks like he woke up minutes ago, but he talks and acts like he has been up for hours.

Zayn invites me in. I hesitate. I don't know exactly what I plan on doing once we get into the house. But I say yes, what else am I supposed to say? I have to be in the house for the plan to carry on.

He shuts the door after I walk inside. The apartment (A/N: or flat... idgaf, I'm American) is a decent size. It is mostly clean, with only a few items out of place, but Zayn is still shuffling around quickly to pick them up.

"Just have a seat in there. I'll be right back," he says. He points to the small living room not far from the front door, then disappears. I drop my purse on the floor by the door, but keep my phone with me before moving to the living room. Thank God Zayn is gone, even if it is for just a second. I need to calm down before he gets back. The whole array of emotions are circling in my mind, and I need to sort them out.

I sit on the sofa. A TV in the room is playing a movie I know.

"Anchorman?" I yell out for Zayn to hear. More like choke, slightly cough and then stutter out for Zayn to hear. I still have not reached the point where I can talk to him comfortably.

"Yeah," he calls back, then I see him sprint into the living room with two drinks.

Zayn hands me a glass of ice water. I mutter a thanks.

He jumps over the back of the couch and lands sitting next me, making the entire couch bounce with him. He begins to eat some food that he already had in a bowl on the coffee table. Some pretzels or Chex Mix or something shitty like that. I don't really have the ability to care about it. I am so horribly nervous. I know I need to relax, but I cannot stop thinking about how important this moment is for Harry and I. I can't mess it up, or we are ruined. I am clutching the glass of water tightly in my hands, needing something to hold onto to keep me from insanity. Zayn does not notice at all.

Zayn, who is intently watching the movie, playing with his hair with one of his hands absent-mindedly.

I sit up straight in the chair.

It has to be bad that I find that attractive.

It cannot be okay that he is attracting me by screwing up his hair. I glance over to him.

He is still doing it, dammit. Whatever he is doing- slightly running his fingers through his hair, I guess? All I know is that fuck, I want to touch his hair, and that I have to calm down.

But even his pajamas make him attractive. Is that even possible? Can fricking plaid pajama pants make someone look hot because holy fuck he looks hot.