They say every cloud has a silver lining. Cliché, I know. But, with twenty-year-old psychology student - Meliora Simmons, the clouds only appear to turn a darker shade of gray with no evidence of a bright side. Nightmares haunt her since her childho...
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❰Meliora❱
I snapped out of my train of thoughts and noticed the three of them standing at a distance, deep in conversation. The aura around them had drastically changed and I don't think I had seen Daya this serious for the short amount of time I knew her. She seemed to be the bubbly kind of a person, not one to hold a serious frown.
"I'm sorry but did you just say 'witch'?" I asked, to confirm that I had heard her right. Their eyes snapped at me for a brief moment before Daya looked at Troy and Zayn and I think they shared a knowing look before she stepped back and walked out of the area. I only looked at the two of them in confusion.
They silently turned towards me and I raised an eyebrow at the lack of answers I was getting. I watched Troy throw a glance at Zayn before he looked at me with a wide smile plastered on his face.
"Was that your brother or your dad on the phone?" He asked with a smirk, totally ignoring my question. It annoyed me beyond my wits. From the corner of my eye, I saw Zayn roll his eyes but his ears perked up.
"Neither," I snapped. I wasn't going to let him talk crap about my friends. "He could be my boyfriend for all you know."
I couldn't help but notice how Zayn's expression had changed from bored to alerted.
Troy let out a hearty laugh, clearly not buying my story. He took a step closer, a smirk playing on his lips, then bent down to reach my ear. I stood erect at the gesture.
"You," he began, his voice painfully seductive, "wouldn't be here if you had one, now would you love?"
My heart had certainly skipped a beat at the way his words rolled out, especially the last bit of it. My cheeks flared a bright shade of red and I had to look down so my hair could cover for them. God damn British men and their accents!
"You look cute when you're flustered," he said and then flicked my forehead, causing me to yelp. I was shocked, but my expressions soon turned to a frown as I narrowed my eyes at him.
"And you look hot when you're mad." He flicked my forehead yet again before I could even vocalize my discontent, leaving me stupefied and flustered, yet again.
"That's enough," Zayn interjected, to my relief, a certain look on his face that was hard to pinpoint. He was glaring at Troy who was either oblivious or ignorant towards it. If looks could kill, Troy was already dead. "We should be focusing on more important things."
I took this opportunity to bring back the question I had originally asked.
