Chapter 14

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*Marie's P.O.V*

I had gotten dressed in a simple tank top and shorts, while I assumed Harry was showing the rest of the boys the video of me knocking him out. I would be embarrassed if I were him. He just got beaten up by an 18 year old girl. That's why you can't be sexist, ladies and gentleman.

When I heard the front door slam, I knew it was okay to make my way downstairs for breakfast. I was still tired, but I had to fight through it. I wasn't going to be a baby and complain about it, though.

I suddenly remembered that I was still left alone with Zayn. The thought didn't alarm me at all. I've beaten him up once, I can surely do it again. I didn't think too much about it, and instead, wandered downstairs.

Right before I reached the kitchen, I could make out Zayn leaving the control room.

"So you've seen?" I asked, referring to the video footage.

"Err yeah," Zayn said, entering the kitchen.

"Where's the cereal?" I wondered aloud.

He showed me where the different typed of cereal, bowls, and spoons were. Once I was settled down and eating my Frosted Flakes, I decided to ask Zayn another question.

"What do you think?"

"What?" Zayn questioned, knitting his eyebrows together.

"What do you think of that video?" I repeated.

He was silent for a minute or two. He was probably trying to decipher all the right and wrong answers he could probably say.

"It confirms my suspicions about you hitting me with that door yesterday. I didn't slip, did I?" He asked me, his eyes peering into mine.

I took my time chewing the cereal that was in my mouth, and then swallowing.

"No," I answered. "You didn't slip."

"You hit me with the door, and then slammed my head against the floor," Zayn said, pretty much recapping the events of the night before.

"Correct" I munched, swallowing another mouthful of Frosted Flakes.

He looked bewildered for a moment, but then quickly recovered. He calmly folded his hands on top of the kitchen table.

"Why did you lie to the boys and I about not hurting me?" Zayn interrogated me.

"Eventually they would've figured it out. Exactly right then, wasn't that best time," I replied truthfully.

"So when was the best time?" He asked, like he didn't already know.

"Harry's situation," I said, nonchalantly eating my cereal, and seeming uninterested in this conversation.

"How can you fight like that?" Zayn wondered, switching subjects. I already spoiled too much.

I wasn't too sure how to respond. One thing I know, is that I couldn't tell him about my spy past. I didn't have to lie though, either.

"My parents were good fighters," I shrugged. At least that wasn't a lie. My parents really WERE good fighters. They were excellent, to be exact.

"And...?"

"And...they taught me self defense skills," I continued, still being honest in some way shape or form.

"What did your parents do for a living?" I was asked.

Um...? Think of something quick!

"They worked at a bank," I said stupidly. Why would I say that?!

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