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Sixty One

Harry Styles

It's been two days since I told Aubrey everything, and I don't know why she's still here.

Not only is she here, but she's so understanding it's borderline painful. She gives me space when she senses I need it, and does the exact opposite when I ask her to. I've been a bit embarrassingly in need of more physical touch than usual, and she's right there to give me exactly what I need every single time.

I don't know why someone like her would waste their time with me, but I'm trying not to take it for granted.

I made the mistake of saying something along those lines to Zayn on the phone yesterday, and his stupid girlfriend topic was brought to my attention for the millionth time. I obviously am not stupid enough to miss the fact that we're far past that point with the whole living together thing, but we never labeled it, and it almost feels too late to do it.

I also have no idea how I'm supposed to ask her something like that without shitting myself or running away in embarrassment.

I've never been the relationship type. I know I've tried many new things with Aubrey and want to continue to do so, but something about a label and being the one initiating the use of it freaks me the fuck out. I also have a nagging thought that it might scare her away, even though I know Zayn wouldn't be practically begging me to do it if he thought it would go sour.

I try to will those thoughts away to the best of my ability, but Zayn's words ring in my ears every free moment they can squeeze themselves into my mind.

"You'd be stupid not to ask her."

"She's probably sitting around waiting for you to bring it up."

"You not saying anything makes it seem like you don't care, you know."

All of this shit coming from the guy who got a girlfriend by accidentally calling her that.

I focus on the crunch of my salad to drown out his deafening voice, the green leaves more vibrant in my view because of my glasses. I shove the last few forkfuls into my mouth, rinsing out my bowl once I'm done and putting it in the dishwasher.

I now eat three meals a day because of this woman. I'm even limiting myself to strictly one cup of coffee a day so my appetite isn't completely gone come lunchtime.

Speaking of Aubrey's embarrassing level of control over my actions, I look around for where she may be, not seeing her anywhere on this floor. This is one of her moments where she's giving me some space, leaving herself with a moment to do her own thing. Her own thing is usually reading, though, and I see her current book on the coffee table.

I make my way up the stairs in search of her, looking to both my left and right to figure out where she'd most likely be. Whatever she's doing, she's being very quiet like she usually is when she's thinking. Or she could be taking a nap, who knows. Whatever makes her feel better after this last week and a half is fine by me.

I notice the cracked guest room door to my left, that being the room where all of her spare things are being stored. It was shut when we came downstairs for breakfast, the crack in the door giving away her location.

Since I know where she is now, I head down the hall to the guest room door. I push it fully open, my eyes being met with her sitting in the middle of the carpeted flooring with all of the different pictures Zayn brought over when she first moved in scattered in front of her.

She keeps picking up different ones to really look at them, leading me to believe that this is her first time truly looking at them in their entirety since they were all put in the same place and not spread throughout her whole house.