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What was I going to do about anything that's happened? You know, at first I never believed the whole "there can't be a happy ending in real life," but now I'm not so sure what to believe. I believed she loved me, just the same as I believed she really wanted this to work out between us. The first time, I assured myself she couldn't possibly love him more than she loved me. Then her little 'internet affair' turned into the real thing. And to be honest, she would've had a better chance telling me he broke into the house rather than saying she gave him a key. But she's just another stupid blonde.
I ran my hands through my already messy hair, groaning in frustration as I stood from my desk chair and left the room. Having been in that room all night, sleeping and thinking in there, I needed some fresh air.
Slowly, I crept down the stairs, trying to walk as lightly as possible. But Perrie was in the kitchen. She was making a cup of coffee, currently stirring the mixes into one.
"Good morning," I said softly as I entered through the archway. Having not felt like arguing, I decided to act casual like everything's all good.
"Oh, good morning. I'm sorry, if I had known you'd be up I would've made you a cup, too." She awkwardly looked anywhere but at me, and she let out a exasperated sigh. "Zayn," she said.
"Yeah." I nodded for her to continue, beginning to make myself a cup of coffee, pouring a bit of coffee grains into the coffeemaker. I turned to look at her even though she wasn't facing me.
"I don't want to fight anymore." She turned around, and her eyes locked with mine. "I agree with you about what you said. I'm completely wrong, in every way this could possibly turn out, I'm at fault."
"You are, yeah. But if it's worth anything at this point, I don't want to fight either."
"I get that you most certainly feel like I don't care, that I 'don't' love you, but Zayn, I do love you. You're the only one I love."
How am I supposed to believe that? How could I? Instead of replying, I just turned towards the refrigerator, which was in front of me to her left, and I stared at it, resting against the counter.
"I'm not lying. You probably think I am, but believe me, I'm not."
"I believed all your vows." I stated simply, shaking my head.
"Zayn, I'm being serious. At first I thought this wasn't what I wanted - you wasn't what I wanted - but now I see it. You are all that I want. I don't love Louis, Zayn, I love you." Her eyes welled with tears, burning her blue orbs, threatening to run down her face.
I felt bad for her crying, but she deserved to feel pained for the way she treated me. I wasn't going to say she didn't need to cry. I was silently satisfied at how bad she felt. That's not me thinking in a cruel or mean way; it's just me realizing she's regretting everything she ever did behind my back.
"Perrie, I love you. But this is never going to work - we are never going to work - unless you stop all contact with Louis on the spot. No more Louis. He's the reason we're falling apart, and you're going to be the reason we completely break up if you don't control the situation. You're making it hard for me to trust you ever again." I could only speak the truth. I could only do exactly what my mother told me to; speak from my heart, tell her what's on my mind.
"I will. I already planned to do that. I never want to lose you, ever," she cried, heavy sobs escaping her lips. I couldn't even bring myself to imagine what kind of sorrow she was feeling at that very moment.
"If you begin to play it out right, then you shouldn't worry too much about that. I need you to understand something, okay?" I changed my tone from soft to serious in the nick of a second. She nodded. "I love you, and I would go through everything tragic and back just to be with you. I need you to do the same for me. A relationship needs the right communication, and I think we can both agree that that's something important that neither one of us have together." She nodded again, crying too hard to speak. "I'm with you fifty percent, only if you're with me the next fifty percent." It was a cross of advice shared with me between my mom and Harry.
"Because a relationship has two sides to it. If I'm your fifty percent, then you're my fifty percent - that percent is what keeps me going," she said, surprisingly steadying her words evenly. "I'm always going to be with you." She looked me in the eye, and gave me a genuine smile.
"Exactly." I pulled her into a tight hug, wanting to savor this moment, never wanting to let her go. I was afraid that if I let her go, I'd never get her back.
So we stayed just like that for a while, my arms around her waist, and her arms around my neck. Her head was resting on my chest. I felt, for some reason, that there was a strong chance I wouldn't get this moment back.
Maybe we were drifting together again. Maybe we were drifting further apart. Or maybe we'd keep up the tug-of-war.
I wanted to find out, but I didn't. I strongly wanted to believe I was right, but I couldn't.
I was scared to find out who she'd end up with in the end, but I've decided to keep trying. I wasn't handing her to anyone, especially not Louis. She was mine, and he needed to know that.
In my dreams, you're with me
We'll be everything I want us to be
And from there
Who knows
Maybe this will be the night that we kiss
Or is that just me
And my
Imagination?
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