-Harry-

I didn't know what the fuck was going on. Zayn and Daisy? Together? No! This can't be happening! How could my best friend do something like that to me?

I looked in the mirror at my split lip and bruised jaw. He had gotten me a little bit too good. I looked presentable, but in a kind of rugged, ready-to-fight kind of way, which I wasn't. I thought of stealing some makeup from the stylist. No. I didn't want it.

When Daisy saw me, I wanted her to see the damage that her little "boyfriend" had done. I know that she would hate seeing me like this.

All I kept thinking about was her small, warm figure under mine, and the feel of her lips on mine. Electricity tingled through me every time I pictured her, so beautiful. The only thing that would make her better was to make her mine. But now I knew that that wasn't going to happen. Not for a while, at least.

But the way Zayn had fought for her, the vicious nature of his punch was something deeper than what he would have done if their relationship was just a fling. How long had this been going on? However strong, this needed to end.

-Zayn-

I looked in the mirror as I buttoned the top button of my shirt. My cuts and bruises were all that I saw. The press would go crazy if they saw this. I needed cover up. Or I could just skip going out. No, I had already let Daisy run around on her own enough, even in her own house, and look what had happened.

Every time I thought about Harry, a hot, vicious, ferocity coursed through my veins. I disliked him before, but now I hated him.

And every time I think about Daisy, the sweet, innocent little girl who thought this was all her fault, I think about my feeble cover up. How it was all alright, how I forgave her (for nothing I might add) and how it was all Harry's fault. The last part was true. I had told her that I wouldn't do anything to seek revenge. She had made me promise. But I was going to have to break that promise.

-Daisy-

I held Zayn's arm as he led me out to the car to go Katy Perry's birthday party. I thought it was cute how the boys had such an obsession with her.

The car ride was absolutely awful, Zayn staring at Harry in the limo, the vein in his forehead pulsing, his jaw clenching and unclenching. Harry sat alone, quietly for the whole time. I felt bad for him. Zayn had promised not to do anything, but by the looks of it, the tension between them would soon have to meet an exploding point.

Harry and I made eye contact. I gave him a blank stare. To my surprise, he responded with a smirk. Why was he being so flirty at a time like this?

Zayn's arm that was wrapped around me became tight, almost painfully tight. With my shoulder that was pressed against his chest, I could feel his heart racing. His breaths quickened and he never took his eyes off of Harry's.

I loved Zayn. But sometimes his over-protective nature was stifling. I understood that since Harry had pretty much assaulted me, he had a reason to keep me close, but I had also noticed that he had done this before Harry had done anything.

It got worse when we got to the party.