six

                                        

                                              



.❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。
𝐋𝐎𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐒, 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐀
𝗭𝗔𝗬𝗡
"Zayn."
Harry's voice echoed through the vast penthouse I called home, jolting me out of my thoughts. I hadn't even realized how engrossed I was in my phone until he spoke. A quick glance at the time told me I'd been mindlessly scrolling through Instagram for the past thirty minutes.
"Yeah?" My voice came out rougher than I intended, my head snapping up to meet his intense stare. I didn't even bother asking how he got in. But the look on his face made my brows furrow. "What?"
"What are you doing?" Harry asked as he stepped closer to the couch where I was seated.
I gave him a look before lazily dropping my phone onto my chest. Only Harry would show up at my place just to interrogate me.
"Nothing."
He nodded slowly, his suspicion evident. I rolled my eyes.
"What do you want, Harry?" I asked bluntly. I knew he was here for a reason, and I'd rather he just get to the point instead of dancing around it.
Harry gasped dramatically, clutching his chest like I'd just insulted him. His emerald eyes widened in offense. "Why would you think I wanted—"
I groaned loudly, throwing my head back. "Just say it."
"Do you want to come with me to Devin's for poker night?" He asked, finally cutting to the chase.
I let out a slow exhale at the question. Poker nights used to be a regular thing—just me, Harry, Louis, Liam, or Niall. At some point, we started inviting Devin and a few others. But I hadn't been to one in a while. And by "a while," I meant nearly eleven months.
Harry knew better than to ask because my answer was always the same: I'm busy. Except I wasn't actually busy. And we both knew it.
Poker nights were usually held at Devin's place now. And I just didn't want to be in a house where she could easily walk in.
It wasn't that Devin and I were on bad terms—there was no bad blood between us. We were still cool, still boys like before. But things had the potential to get awkward.
And tonight? Tonight was definitely going to be awkward, given everything that was going on.
Harry must have noticed my hesitation. "Come on, Zayn. Louis, Liam, or Niall can't make it, and it's no fun with just two people."
"No." The answer came without thought. There was no way—especially not with what was going on right now—I was walking into that house.
Harry groaned, flopping onto the couch beside me with unnecessary dramatics. "You can't keep avoiding this forever."
"I'm not avoiding anything." I grabbed my phone again, pretending to be interested in whatever was on my screen just so I didn't have to look at him. "I'm good."
Harry scoffed. "Right. So you just randomly decided to stop showing up to poker nights for almost a year?"
I clenched my jaw, staring at the ceiling. "I just don't feel like going. It's not the end of the world." I tried to reason with him.
"You never feel like going," he pointed out. "And you never have a real reason, either."
I stayed silent, hoping he'd take the hint and drop it. But this was Harry we were talking about. He was stubborn as hell.