Opposites

f o r t y - s e v e n

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Melody

"Morning." I yawn once I enter the kitchen, and see Harry plopping down and beginning to eat his cereal. A smile brightens itself on Harry's face as I make my way towards him to give him a proper morning kiss. His lips linger on my cheek, as I loosely wrap my arms around his neck and stand between his legs. I sigh contently, staying in my position for a couple more minutes before I kiss his cheek sloppily and move away.

His teasing whine makes me laugh as I pull a bowl and begin to make my own cereal.

"I wanted to wake you up, but you seemed very tired. So, I let you be."

I hum thankfully at his statement while rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

Once I'm done with the cereal, I plop down across from Harry and lazily eat.

Flashing me a grin, Harry opens his mouth to talk. "How did you sleep?"

I shrug, "Fine, but your legs bothered me." I roll my eyes fondly.

Harry mimics my actions with a stupid sly smirk, "You love cuddling with me." He says emphasizing the word 'love' then continues, "But you don't wanna admit it."

"Whatever." I roll my eyes again, biting my lips to suppress a smile. I do love cuddling with Harry. A lot. It gives me this type of being safe, relaxed, and at ease. His touch radiates warmth and it just makes me feel alive. I love it. I love Harry.

A silence falls between us afterwards, each of us finishing up our cereals. It's a comfortable silence though, not one of those awkward and tense silences. And that makes me comfortable. Until Harry, of course, shatters it.

"Zayn stopped by, an hour ago." He states quietly.

My heart sinks to the pit of my stomach.

The spoon falls from my hand subconsciously, clinking into the bowl, and making Harry flinch at the sudden loud movement.

Zayn.

A flutter of electricity runs through my body, not understanding the various emotions I'm feeling right now. Anger, nervousness, confusion, and excitement bundle up inside of me, not knowing what to say nor feel. Harry's three words clank inside of my mind as it repeats over, and over.

Why the hell was he here?

I look at the clock above the fridge. 11:15 A.M.

My sweaty palms form into fists by my sides on the table, while my eyebrows furrow virulently with my breathing getting rigid and heavy. However, on the interior, it's completely different. My heart is aching, overpowering me, as my eyes subconsciously spark with tears. But I don't let them run down. Not when Harry's sitting in front of me. Not now.

"Mel, what's wro-"

"Why was he here?" I stare at him dead in the eye, as my facial expression stays blank and unreadable.

"He said he needed to talk to you as soon as possible." He eyes me carefully.

I finally blink after he says that, and let it sink in my mind.

Zayn needs to talk to me? But why? My mind then wonders to the many reasons Zayn wants to talk to me. He could either have came to his sense and realized that he feels at least something towards me, or he only wants to come and piss me off.

This is all too confusing.

With a still angry and frustrated expression on my face, I stand up from my seat, leaving the unfinished bowl. I will probably get lectured by Harry for leaving it, but I don't think about it as I enter the living room. Pacing back and forth, I stop when Harry enters after me moments later. I sit down on the brown couch, pulling at my hair in frustration. I glance at Harry briefly when he walks slowly towards the other couch across me. He takes a seat as well then sighs, "What's on your mind? What's wrong?"