*Carter's POV*

I sat on the floor in my cluttered room, floating about in the midst of drained alcohol bottles, ice packs, and photo albums.

A groan let my lips when I twisted around, inspecting the plum sized bruise just above my hip. My head was throbbing like a bitch and the jagged edges of the pictures on the floor sliced into my bare thighs.

I reached for the picture under my foot, tears coming to my eyes when I saw it was another of Zayn and I. I continued looking at photo, after photo, after photo , after photo, after photo, finally stopping when I found one of my old favorites.

I traced the outline of our faces through the cracked frame, jumping and whipping the tiny revolver from the pillow next to me at the sound of my door hinges opening.

Zayn's was wide alert at the sight of the gun pointed straight at the space between his eyes. He put up his hand in a sign of surrender.

"Whoa Carter. Put the gun down, okay? It's only me." His voice was low and deep, and his eyes never left the deadly weapon in my hand.

"Is that supposed to comfort me?" I questioned, my arm shaking as I ran my thumb over the trigger. I would never actually do it, but it was fun to watch him squirm.

He grabbed my arm and twisted my hand around so that the weapon was now in his possession. He emptied the small bullets onto my carpet before setting the gun down in front of me. I slumped back down, defeated, folding my arms across my chest and exhaling a huge sigh.

I watched Zayn's eyes as they trailed across the floor of my messy bedroom. My cheeks burned crimson when he met my gaze again.

"Why are you here?" I snapped, when he picked up a shattered frame, brushing the glass fragments away.

"Ummm...well. I just wanted to check on you?" His voice rose at the end as if he were asking a question.

"I don't want to see you Zayn." I left him standing in my bedroom as I walked to the hallway bathroom and slammed the door.

I frowned at my tangled haired, red-rim eyed reflection in the mirror. I quickly yanked a comb through my mess, smoothing my crumpled t-shirt against my body. A few minutes passed when I heard a small knock and Zayn's quiet tone.

"Carter. Will you come out please?" He whispered through the door.

"No Zayn. Go home. I don't want to see you."

"Open the door Carter or I swear I will pick this lock!"

"Pick this lock and I promise we will have a repeat of last night. Minus the part where the guards pulled me away." I snapped. I heard him chuckle and I balled my fists, preparing to swing.

"I can feel you tensing up Carter. Don't worry, I'm not coming in. I'll just have to sit out here until you come out."

"Touché." I replied, sitting on the counter, logging into my Twitter account. If he wanted to wait, then wait he would do.

An hour passed, and Zayn's singing had stopped. I cracked open the door to find him slumped against the opposite wall, eyes closed in a peaceful sleep. I shimmied out of the doorway, silently tiptoe-ing past his slumped figure.

I was almost past when sharp fingers caught my wrist, and Zayn's eyes fluttered open.

"Nice try sweetheart." He stood up and followed me down the steps to the kitchen. I grabbed another shot glass from the cabinet as he leaned his elbows on the island.

"We need to talk Carter." I poured myself a shot, leaning my head against the open cabinet as it ran down my throat.

"Carter?"

"What is there to talk about Zayn?! Really? You are your own person and you can do whatever the hell you want. Let's just finish this stupid mission and go our separate ways."

Zayn was quiet for a moment, before getting my bottle and taking a swig. He set it down and wiped his face, gazing back at me.

"Don't you think it would be easier to work out our problems? That would make these three months a lot more enjoyable." He muttered.

"I have no interest in talking about what used to be. So can you just go before I kick your ass? I was actually doing something before you intruded."

"What? Sulking while you got wasted and looked at old pictures? Sounds like a real party Carter." He sat down on the barstool and didn't make a move to leave. I threw up my hands.

"Fine Zayn. If you won't leave then I will!" I growled, snatching my coat and keys from the peg on the wall and storming out of the house. He walked out after me, banging on the window as I locked my door.

"Carter! You can't drive! You're intoxicated and angry!" He sounded genuinely concerned for a second, but I didn't care.

"Just watch me." I sneered, throwing the car into reverse, leaving his tall figure standing in the driveway.

Notes

Ahhhh nothing quite like getting into a heated argument with your boyfriend, and then standing there defeated in the hallway as his car peels off.

*sigh*

Now I turn to my old friend, Mint Chocolate Pistachio ice cream. :( FML

Friday Night Blues,
Denim°°