fifteen

                                        

                                              


.❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。
𝐋𝐎𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐒, 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐀
𝗩𝗜𝗘𝗡𝗡𝗔
"Coco hated me for sure." Zayn laughed, his eyes crinkling as he took a slow sip of whiskey.
Guilty. That's what I was. I had told everyone I was fine with staying home on my birthday, but when 8 PM rolled around and I was still curled up on my couch, boredom crept in.
And then, as it always did when I was left alone with my thoughts, I started to overthink everything in my life.
That's when I remembered how I had blown up on Zayn earlier in the day, and I internally cringed. I hadn't meant to snap at him, I just let my emotions get the best of me, and unfortunately, he had been the first person in my line of fire. 
It was a habit I was trying to break.
The guilt gnawed at me. So, in a moment of poor judgment and a glass of wine, I called him. I know, bad idea. But loneliness does things to a person.
Which is how I ended up here, in Zayn's penthouse, curled up on his couch, tipsy off wine.
To say it brought back memories would be an understatement. I vividly remembered the same thing happening on Zayn's 24th birthday. The circumstances were slightly different—we were in a "relationship" then, so there were no rules to break. But I've always believed birthdays should be celebrated on the day itself, and since Zayn had no plans, I made sure that changed.
I felt uneasy knowing that I was supposed to be with Devin, not sitting on another man's couch, seeking comfort where I shouldn't. But the truth was, I needed company. After spending all day alone, wondering if Devin was still mad at me, I needed something to take the edge off.
"She didn't hate you, she was just... aggressive."
Zayn rolled his eyes at my reasoning, making me giggle as I took another sip of wine.
Maybe "wine tipsy" wasn't the right phrase anymore. I was full-on wine drunk.
And Zayn? He wasn't far behind. He hadn't had much, just two glasses of whiskey, but it was strong. Strong enough that he was just as hazy as I was.
"You know..." Zayn started, his voice slurring slightly. I looked up at him, curious. "I couldn't believe you were actually going to celebrate your birthday alone."
"There was nothing to do." I said with a casual shrug, lifting my wine glass for another sip before setting it down. Sinking deeper into the couch, I let the warmth of the alcohol settle in.
Zayn arched a brow, his voice laced with skepticism. "So that was enough to break whatever superstition you have about spending birthdays alone?"
I shrugged again, struggling to find the right words, or maybe just too foggy in the head to care. My gaze drifted to Zayn, who was sitting on the other end of the couch, not far from me. He was slouched comfortably, one leg propped up, angled toward me.
The silence between us was comfortable, familiar. We didn't need to fill it with words, somehow, we just understood each other. It was one of those little things between Zayn and I.
"Let's watch a movie." Zayn announced suddenly, pushing himself up from the couch, only to wobble slightly from the alcohol. I couldn't help but laugh.
He shot me a half-hearted glare before grabbing the remote from the side table and flopping back down. Turning the TV on, he glanced at me, tilting his head slightly, a silent request for my input.