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by harrryestilo

by harrryestilo

that love is mean, and love hurts, but i still remember that day we met in december, oh baby!

784 words ✖

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It was hot. Genevieve and Harry's body heat was radiating greatly, the blanket not helping with the problem. Harry's mouth twisted in a grimace, him sitting up and taking his shirt off, his pants coming off shortly after. He resumes to cuddling with Genevieve, smirking a little. In the other room down the hall, Zayn is waking up, his tattooed covered arms rising over his head. Zayn didn't get much sleep last night, due to all the guilt that was torturing him. He pulls the white duvet off his body, olive colored feet touching the freezing, dark chocolate like wooden floor. He ambles to the bathroom, washing his face, and brushing his teeth. Not without getting water and toothpaste on his maroon colored shirt though.

"Why does that always happen!" Zayn sighs, mouth all sudsy from the mint substance in his mouth. He rinses, does a smile check in the mirror, and heads to Harry's room. Zayn stumbles inside the space, furrowing his eyebrows at the scene in front of him. What the fuck? His confusion is quickly replaced anger, realizing that Harry is actually snuggling with Genevieve, his head nuzzled in her neck. Zayn punches Harry in the shoulder, hard, him waking up with a start.

"What the fuck, Z!" Harry says drowsily, eyes wide. Genevieve stirs before waking up also, confused beyond belief.

"What's going on?" Genevieve whimpers, looking around Harry's room. Zayn's honey eyes avert from Harry rubbing his shoulder, glaring at him, to Genevieve. His eyes soften, she looks so beautiful, Zayn thinks. Her lips look plump and sweet, her cheeks flushed due to the temperature in the room. Genevieve's brown hair has a serious case of bed head, her light green eyes much brighter in the early hours of the morning. Zayn shakes his head, focusing on Harry and how much of a douche bag he is.

"Zayn's being a dick, that's what's going on," Harry mumbles, his shoulder a feverish red. Zayn narrows his eyes, jaw clenching.

"I came in here to ask you if you wanted me to get breakfast at McDonald's, you know me being a nice friend that I am, an- and I find you and Genevieve all lovey dovey in the bed! Like, like what the fuck? Wha- what the fuck Harry!" Zayn booms. "You know I li-" He stops himself from embarrassment, putting his palm to his forehead, sighing deeply. "What happened last night? Please tell me it is not what I'm thinking." Harry stands up from the cozy bed, itching his thigh. He opens his mouth to say something, but Genevieve beats him to it.

"We didn't do anything Zayn, I'm sure of it, at- at least I think so," She scratches her head. "And why don't you have any clothes on Harry?" Her eyes widen, suddenly feeling unsure if she did anything with her best friend last night. Zayn looks to Harry, his eyes wide with fury, taking a step towards him. Harry puts his hands up in surrender.

"It was hot, okay? And all we did was kiss, that was it Zayn," Harry smirks, looking at Genevieve. Her jaw unhinges, her mouth wide open. How could she have done that? How could she have done that to Zayn? Memories from last night come flooding in her mind. Genevieve puts both of her hands on top of her head, shaking her head furiously.

"Is that true, Genevieve?" Zayn asks, his voice small. She looks up at Zayn, his eyes glossy. Her shoulders slump, tears filling her eyes also.

"I'm so sorry Zayn, I didn't mean to-" Zayn puts his hand up to stop her from talking any further.

"I'm going for a walk. And getting McDonald's for myself." Zayn's voice is hard now, making Genevieve flinch, a tear slipping on her cheek.

"I'll go with you-" Zayn interrupts her once again.

"Alone." He looks her in the eyes, Genevieve trying hard to figure out how he is feeling. But it looks as if all the emotion has drained from his face leaving him, emotionless. Zayn walks out of the bedroom, grabs his wallet from the kitchen table, slips his low-top white Converse on his feet, and slams the front door. Genevieve collapses on Harry's bed, bouncing up slighty and then fully plants on the cushion. Harry rushes to her side, but she shrugs him off. She sighs before standing up, wiping her cheeks of the warm tears.

"Put some fucking clothes on Harry."

And with that she leaves the flat too.

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omf im so sorry