Living in London

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ARIADNE'S POV

Zayn had been out of hospital for a while now and it seemed that things were finally returning to normal again. About time, too. I was getting sock of all the worrying and stress. I mean, I love Zayn but the hospital was not the brightest atmosphere.

We announced our breakup about a week after he was released from the hospital. I was a bit worried about what the reactions from everyone might be, but I really shouldn't have stressed. None of the boys were mad at all- confused mostly. I guess Zayn and I made a better couple than either of us had realized. The fans haven't been too hard on me- it's been only about 75% hate on twitter. They keep going on about how I 'stepped on Zayn's heart' and 'threw it in the trash' and 'kicked a field goal with it.' The fans just keep getting more and more creative.

Number Withheld has been leaving me alone, too. Hopefully for good now, but for some reason I doubt that. Maybe they just wanted to break up Zayn and me, but that doesn't explain the elevator situation- Zayn and I weren't together then. Or maybe they are mentally retarded. That would explain quite a lot, actually.

We haven't heard anything from Eleanor either, ever since that day at the hospital. I missed her, actually. Now that I think about it, her hyperactive ways were quite entertaining. She always knew how to cheer me up when I was upset or how to set the boys straight.

On the down side, (or up side, depending on how you look at it), I haven't been able to stop thinking about Harry. Living with him and spending every day with him is harder now knowing that I like him but he doesn't like me. I've fallen. Once again no-one was there to catch me so I fell on my face. Falling for Harry in itself was crazy, though. I mean, I practically just met him. It's been- what, a couple of months?

I raised and eyebrow and scribbled down a line that was floating in my head.

Hey, I just met you. And this is crazy.

What can I add to this? I have a tune in my head and I really like it for a change. Usually when I try to write a song I end up word vomiting all over the place. A stray dog could probably fart a better song. But for some reason, today things were working out for me and this song seemed pretty decent.

Here's my number, so call me maybe.

I spent the next hour scribbling down song lyrics, sharply crossing out lines and trying to squeeze words into tiny gaps. When I was happy with it, I opened my laptop and double-clicked on the little Music Maker icon. I spent another hour editing beats and chords, eventually cresting a semi-decent backing track.

I left my room to be sure no-one else was home.

"Hey Ariadne!" Harry said the minute I left my room. I stumbled back against the wall, frozen, like I'd been caught doing something I wasn't meant to be doing.

"Oh, hey!" I stuttered after stomach decided it was done flipping. "I didn't think anyone was home."

"Oh, well... surprise!" he said lamely. "I can go if you want."

"No!" I said too quickly and he raised an eyebrow. I cleared my throat awkwardly. "I mean, it's your apartment- do whatever you want!"

"Oh... okay." Harry drummed his fingers on his leg.

Oh, hey awkward silence! I was wondering when you drop by to say hello!

"So... watcha doing?"

I sighed in relief at the silence breaker. I hate silence. "Just looking for my Yeti," I shrugged, rummaging through the storage cupboard.

No, I am not looking for some kind of pet Bigfoot- my Yeti is my microphone. Don't look at me like that!

"Found it!" I announced, holding it up to show him.