Our love is my mixtape (Zarry AU)

Gotta get up

The next morning I feel miserable. Memories from last night come flashing back.

I can't believe I actually saw him. I can't believe he saw me- like that. Just thinking of how I was cowering on the ground crying like a fool, makes me feel embarrassed and ashamed of myself. I don't want him to see me breaking down like a weakling, all because of him. I have never wanted him to find how much, him leaving, has always affected and still affects me. But besides all that, I can't comprehend how he actually had the audacity to just approach me like that, completely out of the blue. He could at least have given me a warning, or try to text me. That, if he still has my number, which I doubt. Whatever, the entire last night just has been a disaster and on top of it all, I have a fucking headache.

Since my stomach is grumbling I decide to make myself some breakfast. A simple scrambled egg with bacon and a cappuccino are exactly what I need right now. Not wanting to feel so lonely, I open up the window, which is oriented towards the street, so that I can hear the buzzing going on in this busy town.

Walking over to the record player I put on Harry Nilsson's Nilsson Schmilsson, and even if I have a slight hangover, I still can't believe he actually titles his album with that ridiculous name. Anyhow, it is indeed a good album to get up in the morning, which probably was his intentions, since his first track Gotta Get Up always makes me a bit more cheerful and excited for the day, so that I actually manage to get up from bed rather than staying under the comfortable and cozy blanket.

Placing the drink and the food on the kitchen table, I take a sip from my cappuccino, clumsily as I am, burning my tongue in that process.

However, it still makes me feel a bit more relaxed, to finally have some caffeine running through my body.

Ignoring my burning tongue, I open up a poem book, which simply contains poems about serenity, hoping to distract myself from last night's events and get myself in a more relaxing and carefree state.

Only having read the first page, the sudden ringing of the doorbell interrupts my relatively peaceful morning.

Muttering some incoherent curse words, I am opening the door and faced with my best friend.

"Hey, mate", Niall greets, making his way into my flat.

"Oh, of course, Niall. You may come in", I sass following behind him.

"Oh sorry, Harry. I didn't know you were still having breakfast at", he is looking at his watch, "one pm."
"It's not like you just woke up as well", I retort, knowing that Niall's hangovers are usually way worse than mine and make him stay in bed most of the following day.

"Touché", he chuckles, taking a seat on the opposite chair of the one I have been sitting in. So of course, I sit back down as well, taking another bite of the bacon.

"So, may I ask what made up stay up early today?", I honestly want to know, because his behavior is a bit strange.

"Just thought I'd check up on you. I mean, you just disappeared, yesterday", he sighs, folding his hands on the table and for a second he reminds me of my mom, whenever I messed something up, she'd have the same scolding expression written on her face.

"I'm sorry I just left. I was tired", I explain.

"Harold", he scolds me, quirking an eyebrow as to show me that he clearly knows that I am leaving something out.

"Fine", I groan, not really wanting to relive last night, but seeing no way around it.

So I tell him everything, maybe leaving out my embarrassing outburst.