Chapter Eight

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Near to You

08

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This is how it starts. Lightning strikes the heart, goes off like a gun, brighter than the sun.

Brighter than the Sun – Colbie Caillat

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“We could have met here, you know.”

The lights on the sign caused my skin to glow a soft, yellow colour as we stood under it, peering up to see what we would be watching that evening. I was torn between the sequel to the Hunger Games and a new romantic comedy, while Zayn had seen both already.

“I wanted to see where you lived.” He glanced around, pulling his hoodie up further to conceal his face. To any passerby we must have looked like two troublesome teenagers about to hold up the ticketing booth.

“And your verdict?”

“It’s not the best,” he replied. “But not the worst either.”

“How very neutral of you to say that.” I rolled my eyes. “Even I will admit it; the dormitory is kind of a dump from the outside.”

His lips turned upward slightly and he glanced away, trying to hide it from me.

“I can’t make up my mind!” I complained.

“It’s your choice.” He shrugged and I glared up at him.

“Make it for me.”

“I want you to enjoy the movie.”

“I’ll like either, I promise.”

He squinted at the list, checking it over again. “I guess we could see the chick flick.”

I was surprised. “Really? You chose that over Mockingjay?”

“I have a tender soul,” he mocked, placing his hand by his heart. “I can appreciate romance every once and a while –once it isn’t The Notebook.”

“Well this movie isn’t in any way related to Nicholas Sparks, so you’re very lucky.”

I bounced up to the lady who had been watching us the entire time making our decision. It was particularly slow for a Friday night, but it could also be due to the fact that it was just after nine. I’d had a late tutorial for writing and couldn’t get out any sooner.

“Two tickets to The Widow, please.” I smiled brightly at her from behind the counter. She eyed me warily. Before I could pass the money through the small hole, Zayn pushed me aside gently and handed the notes over. “Honestly, Zayn, you’ll have to let me pay eventually.”

“Not going to happen.”

I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms as the lady gave him our tickets.

“You two are a lovely couple,” she stated and my eyes widened of their own accord before flashing toward Zayn who appeared somewhat pleased by the misconception.

“Oh we’re not—”

“Have a nice night,” he interrupted before dragging me by my hand toward the escalators which led upward to the theatres. I gazed back at the woman in worry.

“Why would you do that?” I asked. “She’s going to get the wrong idea. What if she knew who you were? She might tell someone!”

“Would that be such a bad thing?”

“What? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Never mind.” He shook his head, handing the attendant our tickets and the boy directed us to the theatre we would be sitting in. “Do you want something to eat?”

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