Capture

Running

The gallery smelled faintly of fresh paint and citrus wine — a sharp, citrusy sweetness layered over wood varnish and something vaguely metallic. Warm, low lights cast golden halos over sculpted textures and wide, moody canvases. People drifted between exhibits in pairs and small clusters, murmuring vague praise or pretending to understand what they saw.

I stepped inside alone, tugging my coat tighter around my frame even though the space was comfortably warm. The quiet thrum of music underscored the din of conversation, low and atmospheric. I spotted Perrie almost immediately — her bright blonde hair catching the light like a flare — and made my way toward the small circle of familiar faces.

"Emma!" she beamed, enveloping me in a hug before I could even say hello.

Niall gave me a wide grin from beside her, already holding two glasses of white wine. "You made it," he said, offering one out.

"You came," Zayn said quietly, appearing at Perrie's side. His sleeves were rolled to the elbows, shirt black and clean against the sharp lines of his frame. Hands in his pockets, voice unreadable.

"I said I would." I smiled. "Thanks for inviting me. This place is... incredible."

"You look great," Gwen added, sweeping up beside us with a dramatic once-over and a teasing wink. "Glad you didn't let yesterday scare you off."

"Trying not to be the office scandal," I laughed, smoothing a hand over my coat.

Perrie scanned the room behind me. "You alone tonight?"

I hesitated for only a second. "Yeah. Flying solo." She nodded easily, accepting the answer without prying — but I caught the flicker of Zayn's glance, quick and unreadable. He didn't say anything, and neither did I.

Eleanor joined the group with a wide smile, linking arms with Gwen and throwing a compliment toward one of Zayn's larger mixed-media pieces on the back wall. As the group shifted their attention, I drifted toward Zayn, lowering my voice.

"About this morning," I said quietly. "I just... I felt like I owed you something. An explanation."

Zayn looked at me, brows pinched slightly. "Emma, you don't owe me anything."

"I'm not apologizing for what happened," I clarified. "But you're Liam's friend and I didn't mean to hurt him the way I did."

He exhaled slowly, looking away for a moment before speaking. "He was off yesterday at work. Wouldn't say why." Then he looked at me again. "But after this morning... I figured it out."

My voice dropped further. "Did you tell him?"

Zayn shook his head. "Didn't tell anyone."

"Not even Perrie?"

His mouth tugged into a half-smile, quiet and sure. "Especially not Perrie."

I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. "Thank you. I mean it."

He shrugged, like it wasn't a big deal, but it was. It was everything.

"Wasn't mine to share," he said simply, his gaze flicking past me to a piece on the far wall. "You like the work?"

I turned to look with him. The piece was layered — colors bleeding into each other, texture giving way to smooth, erratic strokes. There was something raw in it. Something brave.

"I love it," I said honestly. "Really, Zayn. It's... stunning."

His lips moved into something close to a smile, but his eyes didn't quite meet mine. "Thanks."

There was a quiet between us, not awkward, just... heavy with the things neither of us had said. I let it sit for a second before stepping back toward the others — toward the rest of the night I wasn't quite sure how to carry.