°• 𝙰𝙻𝙱𝚄𝙼 𝙰𝚁𝚃 •°[ 𝚣𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚢 ]

I wanna get better 🌿

ZAYN

Hey, I hear the voice of a preacher from the back room
Calling my name and I follow just to find you
I trace the faith to a broken down television and put on the weather
And I've trained myself to give up on the past 'cause
I frozen time between hearses and caskets
Lost control when I panicked at the acid test

I wanna get better
After my conversation with Naisargi yesterday, I finally came to a decision: this whole dizzying whirlwind in my head was just awe. Pure, unfiltered awe at getting to work side-by-side with my teenage celebrity crush for the past few months. Not love. Not anything complicated or dangerous—just awe.

So today, I was going to stick to my plan. Get in early. Dive headfirst into my work without letting myself get distracted by Harry Styles, the man whose face I probably saw more than my own reflection these days. Then, after wrapping up a solid day, I would come home and go on a much overdue date with Joe—my anchor, my boyfriend, the one who actually lived in my reality.

⸻

I arrived at the office earlier than usual, the quiet hum of the empty building somehow reassuring. I took a deep breath, feeling lighter with this new clarity. No more daydreams about green eyes or perfect smiles. Just work.

I spread my sketches out, set up my tea, and dived into the mountain of edits and design tweaks that had been piling up. The satisfaction of progress felt good—real good. One by one, the team filtered in, settling into their spots with that half-awake, caffeine-fuelled energy we all know too well.

Then came the meeting call.

These check-ins were routine—just a way to gauge progress across departments. Nothing to stress about.

Walking into the conference room, I spotted Harry already there, casually perched between the department heads, telling some story that had everyone laughing. The room lit up with his presence, like he was the sun in a galaxy full of stars.

I took my seat directly across from him, meeting his warm smile with a shy one of my own. He wasn't at every meeting—he'd been busy shooting music videos and traveling—but when he was, the atmosphere shifted. The usual stiff formality gave way to something that felt more like a hangout with friends.

⸻

The meeting went smoothly. I caught myself thinking that meetings with Harry always went better because he made the space feel alive, genuine. Okay, Zayn, ease up on the admiration—remember, you're not into him like that. Right.

Later, back in the studio, I kept to my resolve—at least until Harry wandered over to check on the merchandise progress.

I could hear his laughter from across the room—rich, effortless, contagious. The closer he got, the harder it became to keep my head down, to resist the pull of those eyes. Then, he was right there beside me, leaning in to look at the poster I was working on.

"Looks amazing," he said with that easy grin.

I returned a shy smile, feeling my cheeks heat up. He pulled a chair over from the nearby desk and sat down beside me, the space between us suddenly feeling charged—even with the cold air conditioning humming above.

He launched into a story about his recent video shoot—something about being shirtless on a sun-drenched beach, surrounded by people, and how he ended up horribly sunburnt. The story was funny, I could tell, but I found myself unable to focus on the words. I was too caught up in how his green eyes sparkled when he laughed, how his mouth moved in sync with the warmth in his voice.

I wasn't just distracted—I was in trouble.

⸻

That evening, I sat across from Joe at a cozy little restaurant he'd thoughtfully picked out. He was animated, telling me about the hectic week he'd had—his YouTube projects, collaborations, the late-night editing marathons.

I wanted to be present, I really did.

But with every glance at his blue eyes, I felt a pang—an ache that I couldn't quite shake.

If only his eyes were the same emerald green as Harry's.

The thought twisted inside me like a knot.

I pushed it down, tried to smile, tried to focus on Joe—the real, solid man who loved me and stood by me.

But the truth was, tonight I was more tangled in my own conflicted heart than I'd ever been.