Winter

Wrong Über

"I can't fucking believe this," I mutter under my breath while getting soaked to the bone.  The weather forecast predicted clear skies today, you know, no rain, unlike the water coming down in sheets right now.  "He better fucking appreciate this, or I swear to god."

I step into the lobby with a beautiful view of Regents Park on the days there are not cataclysmic rainstorms.  The receptionist raises and eyebrow at my appearance and I have to stop myself from growling at her, not even wanting to be here in the first place.  But Zayn guilted me into coming here after school, resulting in my dripping uniform and shaky limbs.

"Harry Styles," I force out, almost taking pleasure in the way she pales.  "He'll be fine with me going up."  I don't wait for her okay, just stalk over to the elevator and jam the up arrow harder than necessary. I can't believe that I'm freezing half to death and soaked to the bone all because I'm going to apologize to Harry fucking Styles.  When the elevator comes, I quickly press floor seven and shut my eyes while I lean against the wall. The ding alerting me that I have arrived comes all too quickly and I compose myself before making my way to the door at the end of the hall.  I hesitate for a second, wondering if I should just turn back, before my hand knocks on the door without my full permission.

I hear shuffling around in the apartment for a few seconds before the door is opened, and is Harry in front of me with a raised eyebrow and smug smile that turns into something else when he sees me wet and shaking.

"Christ, Zaya, what happened?" He opens the door wider, ushering me in with a gentle hand on my shoulders.  I quickly shake him off and roll my eyes; I don't want his false sympathy.

"I was hoping that I would freeze to death or perhaps catch a bout of hypothermia before I got here, but alas, my body is more resilient than I hoped."  I smile at him and he tilts his head slightly, that fucking smirk back on his face.  

"This has to be the strangest beginning to an apology that I have ever heard, but I wouldn't really expect anything less from you, angel.  Get on with it, though, will you?  I have somewhere to be."

My fists clench and I can feel them shaking, though I don't know whether its from my anger or the cold.  I want nothing more than to smack him in the face, something that I'm quite surprised I have not done yet.  Screw Zayn and screw Harry and screw this fucking apology.  I don't even have anything to apologize for!  Harry was being a dick as usual and I just fought back a bit harder than he expected.  I'm not going to apologize for standing up for myself.

"You know what, Harry?  Fuck you.  You deserve every bit of pain this life gives you, fucking dick," I spit out before I do something I regret, basically hitting him because god knows he has no qualms about hitting me back, stomping away from him, no longer cold but almost warm with the anger that is coursing through my body.  I can hear him coming after me only a few seconds later, so I quicken my pace, ripping open the door to the stairwell.

"Zaya, for fucks sake, just stop!  There's no way you're going to outrun me!" He says it in a light tone, but I have learned to recognize the anger that simmers beneath the surface.  I'm taking the stairs two at a time now, not risking a glance back at him as I see that I've made it down to the fifth floor.  I suck in a breath when I feel fingertips just brush the back of my shirt, and I quicken my pace, not realizing how close he is to me.  Maybe running down stairs wasn't the brightest idea, because I loose my footing a moment later, my body nearly tumbling to the floor before two arms catch me around the waist.  I'm then pinned to the wall, a very angry Harry Styles looking down at me annoyed while we both breathe heavily. 

"You know, I think I fucked a girl in here once," he says nonchalantly and my face scrunches in disgust.  He's fucked someone in a stairwell?  Classy.