One. || h.s.

Thirty.

...

This is closer to the type of place Harry and I used to hangout in. It's not as classy as the last but it's still nowhere near as scummy as some of the places I've been. There are plenty of people here for a Sunday night, young and old. Some people are eating, talking lightly over a beer and some are waiting for the band to play. There's no one who is really partying or drinking hard like there was Saturday night, but I take comfort that this evening will be more laid back than the last.

The place is lit dimly and Zayn leads me to a table near the small stage that is set up at the back of the pub. The round table is high like all the other ones with tall stools set up around them. I climb up on a stool and Zayn takes his seat across from me. Even in the dim light is light brown eyes seem to sparkle as he turns to look around the pub at all the people, even waving to some.

"Thanks for coming out with me," he smiles, his voice soft compared to the hum of voices all around us causing me to lean in so I can hear him better.

"Thanks for inviting me," I smile back. "I wanted to stay and see the band last night, but Niall..." I trail off, not really remembering the exact excuse I used before.

"Yeah I get it, you didn't want him to leave alone," he nods, running his fingers through his raven black hair.

I'm extremely relieved to say the least that no one noticed Harry come into the bar last night. I don't want anyone, especially not Zayn, to get any ideas about us. I'm not lying by not mentioning that Harry came to get me, I'm simply avoiding the detail and no one has asked anyways. I just hope he doesn't come bursting through the doors of the pub later on. My eyes flicker to the door out of paranoia and quickly back to Zayn who hasn't taken his eyes off me.

"So what did Harry say about you coming out with me again?" Zayn asks slowly and I roll my eyes.

"Nothing actually, he really didn't seem to care," I tell him and his lips turn up into a small grin. I should be happy about that too, but for some reason I'm not. "How did you know he knew?"

"I figured since you live with him that he knew you where you were going," he shrugs. He shifts uncomfortably in his chair before he speaks again, his tone cautious as if he's trying not to pry too deep. "How is that anyways? Staying with him, I mean. Is it not weird that you're staying with your sister's ex?"

I laugh in my head, finding it funny how this all looks to someone who doesn't know the whole story. If only he knew the truth, that my sister was dating my ex before I moved back in with him. I haven't thought about Jess and what she did to me and what I did to her too much, but thinking about it now makes me realize how really messed up it all was. Not just on her part, but on mine too.

"Well, sure, but I told you before that Harry and I were close before I moved to LA, so it's not as bad as it seems," I tell him, refraining from rolling my eyes at having to tell the censored version of the story. From Zayn's perspective he's probably assuming that things are better than they seem, when in reality they are much worse. "When I needed somewhere to stay he offered me his couch."

"What about for you and your sister?" He asks, his eyes watching me closely. I can almost feel them trailing over my face, watching my reactions and my skin tingles.

"We haven't spoken in two weeks..." I mutter, staring down at my hands.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry I was just..." he panics, his eyes widening as he scrambles for words.

A small giggle escapes me as I watch him fumble and struggle to explain himself. "It's fine. If I didn't want you to know I wouldn't have told you," I smile and he relaxes. "I like talking to you," I add and his eyes brighten along with his perfect smile.