HIGH

Chapter 27 Done

brvdfordmalik.tumblr.com******

I want to get addicted to you*****

We stood there wrapped in one another's embrace for what felt like hours. Neither of said anything. I kept my eyes closed while hugging him fearing that if I opened them Zayn would return to his rant.

"I'm sorry." I broke the silence. I didn't feel bad nor did I pity him. But I did want him to know that I was sorry he had to go through that. Zayn probably wasn't telling me every detail. He could even be lying to me.

Zayn let go of me. He tore himself away from my tight hold then distanced himself. Confusion was written all over his face.

"You're sorry?" He asked in disbelief.

"I don't feel bad for you if that's what you're asking. I don't pity you." I said coldly.

"Then what exactly are you sorry for?"

"Just the fact that it happened. It could have happened to anybody but it happened to you. And I'm sorry that it did. No one should have to go through that."

"Why are you even sorry? I haven't told you anything. That little sob story I just told you was nothing. I've been through much worse shit than that. I don't even know why I told you that." Zayn spat. His anger was rising with each word.

"I thought I was doing something nice."

"I don't need you to do something nice. I don't need you to fucking feel sorry for me either."

"I just explained to you that I didn't feel sorry for you, I feel sorry that it happened!"

"What the fuck does that even mean!" Zayn bellowed. He shoved his hands through his hair. The little vein in his neck poked out. His face was red.

"Forget it." I told him. I was trying so hard not to yell back at him. He was drunk. There was no point in attempting to argue with him.

"No! Fucking tell me what you meant." He growled. "Fuck it. My head hurts and your voice is annoying."

"Thanks." I said my voice thick with sarcasm.

I sat back down on the bed. Zayn sat down beside me. He let out a quiet chuckle.

"What?" Why the fuck was he laughing?

"You're just so obnoxious. Like all the time." Zayn hiccupped.

I shrugged. "You always piss me off."

"Right, because you never piss me off?"

"You realize this is the first conversation we've had when neither of us are yelling? And you won't even remember it tomorrow."

"It's sweet that you keep track of our conversations. Do you have 'em written down in your little diary?"

I stayed quiet by his side. It was better not to say something in return.

This was the first conversation that we've had though without neither of us yelling. At least from what I can remember. Why the fuck would I want to record or write anything down that had to do with him? Talking to him was already hell.

The only reason why this was a bit more bearable was the fact that he was drunk. He wouldn't remember it. I would but he wouldn't.

"Zayn? I'm tired." I told him.

Zayn nodded. He crawled to the head of the bed and pulled the covers over his body.

"Can I change into another shirt? I'm cold in a tank top."