red herring [h.s.]

53.

Stella.

The breath got knocked out of my throat the second Zayn lunged at me. It was like both of us felt the same thing but just didn't dare making the first move, so I was glad when he eventually did after a few seconds of awkward staring. There was something so familiar about him but also something so odd. Seeing him in this building, surrounded by these people... it just didn't add up.

I couldn't stop myself from crying when I inhaled his familiar scent that brought me so much comfort over the year and a half that I had known him. He was one of my best friends and just overall such an important person in my life. Countless late night calls, laughs and cries together and drunk and honest nights had led to us being inseparable.

His arms wrapped around my torso as he lifted me up and pulled me into his chest and I felt my tears wetting his neck. Out of the corner of my eye, I could just see Harry walking out of the room and closing the door behind him to leave us alone.

Me and Zayn stayed embraced for a few moments, his large hand stroking the back of my head comfortingly as I sniffed into his skin. I had cried in his arms on so many occasions. Drunk nights where the agony of losing Jeremy hit me head on, were spent with Zayn. Erin would be my first pick but she just didn't always know how to behave herself when I was in moods like that. Grief was quite unfamiliar territory to her and it made her a little awkward, which was no problem at all. I could go to Zayn in moments like that.

He was my most trusted person in the entire Jeremy-thing. It was why I called him the night Harry found out and we fought and I kicked him out. All I truly wanted that night was someone who understood, and Zayn was that person for me.

"I'm sorry." He murmured into my hair, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

I sighed against him and started pulling back, which prompted Zayn to do the same thing. We slowly drew back from the long hug, making eye contact. It was strange. He looked the same. He was dressed the same way, he carried himself the same way, his eyes were pleading in the same way as if he was trying to convince me to go for the chocolate flavoured tub of ice cream instead of the vanilla. We had an argument like that almost weekly when watching a movie late at night. Yet something was still different.

I swallowed thickly as I took a step back, our arms losing contact. Zayn dropped his eyes and reached a hand up to push his slightly longer hair away from his forehead. He almost looked panicked as he eyed my reaction, nervously chewing on his lip, "Please, tell me what you're thinking right now."

I awkwardly crossed my arms in front of my chest, not knowing what to do with my hands as I balanced on one foot and then the other, "I-I don't know. I'm very happy to see you, I missed you so much." I admitted in a sigh, "But I'm also so confused."

"I know." Zayn murmured, urging me to sit down on one of the chairs in the room and he did the same. Matt's office seemed bigger somehow with just the two of us in here. The two times I had been here, it had always been packed full and he was behind the large mahogany desk in the centre of it. This time, there were no whiteboards with pictures of me against the wall. It was quiet and rather empty.

"So," My voice was raw from the short nights and all of the different emotions I had felt in the past twenty four hours, "how did... everything start then?" It was a vague question but my head was spinning.

Zayn pressed his lips together, "So, um... everything I told you about my family is true. You know I'm not that tight with any of them, except for my sisters. It's why I moved to New York, just didn't feel welcome anymore at home and I needed a change. I had a big blow up with my dad and it turned physical, and that was just the drop for me. Nothing was keeping me home anymore." He murmured. I nodded slowly, this part I already knew. Zayn's childhood honestly seemed less than nice from the stories I had heard.