It's Not What It Looks Like

I get out of the shower and wrap my towel around my body, leaning into the mirror to see my pores. They're fucking huge. Probably from stress. Add that to the list of things I'm blaming on those fucking boys.

"I said GET OUT!" I hear Bridget yell from downstairs.

I furrow my eyes in confusion and throw on my sweats and a sweatshirt to go and check on her. I couldn't hear who she was talking to, but apparently she was not happy about it. I tiptoe down the stairs, it's not like I want to get involved unless I have to. She's 'an adult' according to her. I hear the sad sounding boy tell her he just wants to talk. I can hear in her voice that she's choked up and Bridget isn't one to cry. That's my cue.

"Who are you?" I ask the distressed looking kid in front of me.

"I'm Matt, a friend of Bridgets," he tells me.

"You're not a friend. Now leave," she says.

I raise my eyes in amusement as the boy looks like he's about to cry.

"I just want to talk Bridget, please!" he begs.

"She said no. Maybe another time. Now leave before I physically force you to," I tell him, narrowing my eyes in an attempt to scare the shit out of him.

He huffs and points in her direction, "This isn't over Bridget, mark my fucking words."

"Watch your fucking mouth you little shit," I scold.

Bridget laughs and the boy walks out of the doorway and back to his car. I shut the door and raise my eyebrows at my little sister, "Care to explain the little weirdo I just had the pleasure of meeting?"

She nods, "Yeah, I'll explain."

We walk into the kitchen and sit at the table. She opens her mouth a few times but doesn't say anything.

"I don't exactly know how to start this," she says.

I laugh, "Come on Bridg. It's just me."

"That's the kid I went out with last night."

I nod, "And you already wanna get rid of him? Wow, that great huh?"

She laughs in desparation, "You have no idea B, it was so bad. He's a nice guy and all he's just really fucking intense. We got to the restaurant and he accused me of flirting with the waiter. Then he got upset because I didn't eat all of my food and said it 'worries him that I'm so skinny.' I tried explaining that I'm a small girl and can't eat an entire entree like ever and he rolled his eyes and said 'I thought you would be different.' Like what the actual fuck! He said a bunch of cute things but he ruined it with the psychotic comments! Worst first date of my entire fucking life."

I stare at her for a moment, not sure of what to say. I can't imagine Bridget being scolded by a date and her not flipping a table or something. She inherited the same bad temper that I am so blessed with, so I'm not sure how she managed to get through it. I begin giggling, which turns into laughing, which turns into full on hysterics. I look up at her and notice that she's laughing too.

"I'm so sorry! That sounds so fucking awful!" I say through tears.

"I know! He's such a little weirdo!" She laughs.

The doorbell rings and our eyes shoot over to it, "Want me to get it?" I ask.

She shakes her head, "I can handle some emotionally unstable football loser, no worries."

She stands up and struts over to the door and I roll my eyes in amusement. I get up to get some orange juice and hear the door shut. I don't want her to think I'm spying on her conversation or anything, but I am. So I will. I tiptoe over to the door and press my ear against it. I can hear bits and pieces of the voices, but not much.

"She doesn't want to see you," I hear my sister say very clearly.

Who?

I move my head over to hopefully find a less dense part of the door, trying to hear more clearly.

"You need to leave. For fucks sake don't do this to her,"

"I just need to talk to her, please," the other boy begs.

I know that voice. I know that fucking voice. I swing the door wide open and Bridget curses under her breath. All of the color drains from my face and I feel like someone just sucked all of the oxygen out of the air.

"Zayn," I whisper, trying to make sure I'm piecing this together correctly.

Because there's no way I am actually seeing Zayn Malik at my door. That wouldn't make sense. He's smarter than that. He wouldn't be fucking stupid enough to show up here.

"What... what are you doing here?" I ask.

"Babe, please just hear me out!" He begs.

I shake my head and back up against the wall in an attempt to support myself, "Stay the fuck away from me."

He steps forward to get back the distance I just put between us. The distance I PURPOSEFULLY just put between us.

"Blair..." he whispered.

I go to scream and nothing comes out. Nothing. I cannot find my voice. He looks so... miserable. So un Zayn like. So... vulnerable.

"You should leave," Bridget says, narrowing her eyes at him.

"I just want to talk to you. Liam, Louis, and even Niall have now hand that opportunity. That's all I'm asking for. One conversation. If you want me to leave afterwards I will, I swear," he begs.

I nod, my body not listening to my mind. I feel like my body is going to collapse. I shouldn't have done that interview. I should have just kept my mouth shut in that elevator with Liam. I should have left when Louis sent me that drink. I should have never went to Niall's hotel room. Because all of that led me to right now. With Zayn in front of me, wanting to talk. I should just tell him to leave, but it wouldn't matter anyway. One look at him and I'm back to being hooked on him. I tried to hard to stay away from him and this is why. He could leave now, it wouldn't matter. I'd still have lost all of my progress. I'd still wonder what he wanted to say. So I might as well let him. I might as well offer myself the chance for closure, the same closure I gave Niall.

"Come in," I whisper.

"You've GOT to be fucking kidding me," Bridget mumbles.

I walk into the house, expecting both of them to follow. But I turn around to see Bridget glaring holes through his head. And he's letting her.

"I swear to God I hear one sob or see one tear I will rip your pretty little hair right out of your fucking skull," she snarls.

"I'm trying to fix this, I swear Bridget," he begs.

"Guys, I'm right here. Come inside Zayn. I want to get this over with so that you can leave me alone, for good," I say, crossing my arms over my chest. I feel so uncomfortable, like I've just proven how weak I really am. I couldn't do this. Why did I ever think I could.

We walk into the living room and I notion for him to sit down. I stand across the room from him and lean back and forth on feet. I can't sit down, my heart might explode.

"Your sisters definitely not the girl I remember meeting less than a year ago. She seems..." he trails off.

"Older. Meaner. Less prepubescent?" I ask, annoyed.

He grins, "I was going to say more like you."

I roll my eyes, "Flattery will only get you so far Mr. Malik, and she already fucking hates you."

He looks down at his shoes, "I know. I don't blame her."

"Why are you here Zayn," I demand.

"I'm breaking off the engagement," he says.

Once again, the air has been sucked out of the room.

"You... you're what?" I ask.

"I'm ending it," he says.

I laugh desperately, "So this WHOLE time you could have ended it and you just DIDN'T? Ha! Oh my God of course! That's fucking fabulous!"

He shakes his head, mouth wide open, "No! I begged them before but they wouldn't let me. After I saw you yesterday I decided that I can't do it anymore. I'm threatening to leave the band."

I roll my eyes, "You signed a fucking contract Zayn."

"I have the money to break it. I'm the only one. I've had so many extra projects going on I could sell it all and break the contract. I can leave all of this. I don't need any of it. I was so stupid over the summer. I don't know what I was thinking."

I stomp over to him and point my finger in his face, feeling my blood boil, "Don't you dare do this Zayn. You'll lose everything! Everything you've worked for!"

He stands up and towers over me, "I've told you this before and I'll tell you again, none of this means ANYTHING without you! I've tried to forget you but I can't! If this engagement is what's keeping us from being together, it's not fucking worth it!"

"You sick bastard! If you SERIOUSLY think I'm going to come crawling back to you after this you're even stupider than I thought you were!" I scream.

"I don't think you will but if I keep doing this I'll just be proving to myself that I could never do this in the first place! I need to do this Blair. I have to," he trails off.

I shake my head and cover my mouth as the tears well up in my mouth, "You can't do this to them."

"You suddenly care?! Don't say 'them' like you're talking about all of us! I know exactly who you're worried about. Fucking Liam. SO typical! You've been in love with him since you met him you're both just too fucking stupid to admit it!"

I laugh in desperation, "Are you kidding me?! Liam?! I'm in love with LIAM?! Have you hit your head or something?! What is WRONG with you!"

He grabs my hand and in one swift move he pulls me into his chest. I can feel his breath on my face. I can see every inch of stubble. I can smell the stale cigarettes. You can cut the tension with a butter knife.

"Tell me you don't love him," he whispers.

"I don't love him," I reply, staring into his eyes.

"Tell me you don't love Niall," he says.

"I don't love Niall," I say.

"Now tell me you don't still love me," he begs.

I look down and squeeze my eyes as tightly as I can, trying to hold back my tears. But the second I look back up at him, all of them fall. We don't move. He isn't trying to comfort me, he's making me do this alone. He really wants to know. He's really going to make me say it.

"I... I can't," I whisper at the realization.

I can't say I don't love Zayn Malik, because even if I'll never forgive him, even if I hate him, I still love him. I'd be lying if I said I didn't love him. And I've never been able to lie, not to him.

Notes

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xx elle