For Lovers Only - [A Zarry Stylik]©️

XVIII- LIKE ROSS AND RACHEL

Z,

I pressed the button to the penthouse and rode the elevator playing the argument back in my head. It was done. It was done.

At least, for the time being.

The doors opened and I walked out into the hallway, to the only door ahead of me. I pressed the button twice and waited for the door to open. I cannot stand still, so I pace back and forth until it finally opened.

"Zayn?"

I found Eleanor standing there in her nightdress, way too short and too revealing to be seen by my eyes. She seemed to be going somewhere, with a face covered in foundation matching her skin and her hair in big rolls.

"Eleanor."

"Is everything okay?"

"Is Louis in?"

"Yes. Of course. Come on in."

I walked into Louis's flat right to the massive living room, while Eleanor went up the stairs to find him on the upper floor. Again, I paced about in this living room that I had frequented so many times in the past and where we had so several moments.

I looked at the balcony. Liam had proposed to me here. I convulsed remembering it again. Had I felt happiness, or had I seen it under the goggles of his influence?

Fuck.

"Zed?"

I looked up to see Louis standing at top of the stairs with a look of concern. He came down frowning and met me at the bottom. He studied my face carefully and appeared more concerned by the second.

"I need you."

"What happened?"

"I moved out."

"You what?"

"I did," I explained, feeling lighter as the revelation came out of my lips. "Today. I walked out. I left Liam. I'm going through a lot and...I need my best friend. If that's okay with you."

Louis placed one hand over my shoulder and squeezed. "Drink?"

"Yes."

I sat on the sofa, while Louis went to his cabinet and picked out a bottle of whiskey with two glasses. My friend walked over to me and sat on his coffee table while opening the bottle.

"I thought you didn't like whiskey,"

"I don't," Louis responded, pouring me a glass. "I feel this needs for it, though. Scottish. Don't tell Niall."

I grabbed my glass and Louis held his. We cheered then drank all of it. I let it wash over me, with a little reaction but Louis rolls his eyes and makes a face.

"Alright, mate." He added, pouring another one that we would babysit for longer. "Do share."

****

First, he would get angry.

He would cuss me out, point out my flaws, and how this was all my fault. We'd go around in circles in the blaming game and fishing for answers.

Then, he'd try to show his strength against me, whether it be by yelling, throwing, or slamming something.

Usually, he'd tell me to go. Just go. And when I do go, about 24 hours later the begging would begin. The crying too. The texts, the calls. The incessant nagging.

When that didn't work, he'd to everyone else. Everyone else to help him with his crusade and paint me a picture of what was going on with him: Niall, Louis, his sisters, my mother... they would tell me how he cried, how distraught he looked and how broken he was.