fight for control ↠ harry styles [b1] ✓

CHAPTER 86

a.n. don't forget to comment and vote

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Renleigh Kensington

Working on a broken heart was something I didn't experience up until recently. It was weird. It wasn't undoable but it was definitely challenging. Especially when I had to type a full on word document out and the type of fonts had 'Styles' written under them and there was nothing I could have done to make it go away.

It was there.

Staring me in the face.

Like payback.

I didn't know what for because as far as I was aware, I didn't do anything to get a payback but this was life. And shit happens in life. Usually at the most unpredictable time. It kind of creeps up on your back then stabs something in it which you later find out to be a knife. That only happens if you manage to pull it out but then that means you start bleeding. And when you start bleeding, there is not much that can make it stop.

At least, I thought that until Zayn decided to drown me in alcohol and pretty much give me a poisoning from it. Wine didn't taste the same after a whole day of drinking nothing but that and I never thought I would say this, but I was craving some white by the end of the night. He also tried to get me to go out clubbing with him but I never felt comfortable doing that. I haven't been to a club for some fun since I left university and, in all honesty, I didn't miss the tiny atmosphere with the sweaty bodies, wandering and unwanted hands, drugs and spilled, sticky beverages on the floor or other surfaces. I was just fine getting pissed at home.

A person who shall not be named was one topic I did not allow to wander towards. Zayn, like the best friend he was, understood that it was a touchy subject and laid off of it. I appreciated that because I didn't want to talk about the person who shall not be named.

Yes, that became his name. If he ever needed to be mentioned in a sentence for some weird reason, that was the way to go.

"I was thinking and I came to the conclusion that we should go on a holiday," he mentioned as he made himself comfortable on my bed. He spent the last two days at my place when his was perfectly fine. He said he had no work to do, his girlfriend was busy with work in London and I was his only friend. The last one was obviously a lie but I didn't fight him on it. That did some good for my ego.

"A person who shall not be named always used to want to take me on holidays so I don't think that's a good idea."

"You say that to everything I tell you," he groaned. I watched him reach for a pillow and he pushed it in his face. I smirked and walked over to him quietly then pushed down on it. "Hey!" he mumbled under the cushion and I let go to give him some air. "You are some kind of fucking serial killer, aren't you?"

"Oh, no. Did you see the body in the bath tub before I had the chance to move it?" I pretended to be shocked, both of my hands in front of my mouth.

"Yeah... had to move it myself, mate," he nodded with his lips pressed into a thin line. "But anyways. I was also thinking—and I was thinking hard—and I thought, wow. Renleigh does not have a single tattoo on her body."

"No."

"Why?" he pouted.

"I'm not getting a random tattoo with you. Not my first one, anyway."

"Why?" he rolled his eyes with a certain distaste to his voice.

"They're meant to have a meaning, don't they?" I asked. The words felt familiar on my tongue and they made the hairs on my arms stand up. The voice of the person who shall not be named, ran through me once then twice before I could focus on Zayn again.