#mod10

“Hello?” Soph stuck the phone between her cheek and her shoulder. She nodded gratefully as somebody handed her a cup of Starbucks coffee, taking another pile of post at the same time.

“Soph, you need to come home.” Rose said quickly, her breathing erratic. Soph paused in the corridor, instantly feeling worried. Rose sounded like she was about to cry.

“Rose, what’s wrong?” Soph asked seriously, already dumping her crap in her cubicle and grabbing her car keys. “What is it?”

“Just hurry back, okay?” Rose took a deep breath. “Now!”

Soph didn’t need being to be told twice.

She was there in twenty minutes.

*

“What is it?” Soph huffed, almost colliding with the door as Rose flung the door of the 1D house open. Rose had wide eyes and was barely holding it together. “What is it, what is it, what is it?”

“Soph, we forgot.” Rose whispered, taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly. “We forgot.”

“Forgot what?” Soph asked desperately, conjuring up horrifying scenarios in her head. What had happened? Oh God, they’d forgotten to leave food in the fridge for Niall, hadn’t they? OH GOD, NIALL WAS DEAD.

“Soph, it’s the fifth anniversary of the One Thing music video.” Rose whispered, rocking back and forth. Soph stared at her best friend in shock. “It’s their fifth anniversary.”

Rose and Soph stared at each other for a moment, before a flurry of movement.

“We need a laptop!” Soph yelled, ripping off her coat and flinging it to the floor, trying to find her phone so she could be ready to blog obsessively.

“YES!” Rose screamed, running up the stairs as quickly as possible.

The One Thing music video meant not just a lot to Rose and Soph because they were Directioners, but also because they’d been friends for almost three years when they’d watched it together upon its release.

As you can imagine, the trending topics, the constant refreshing of YouTube and fears of having to wait like for the Gotta Be You video, the blogging, fangirling and Tweeting had been an unceasing wave of One Direction love.

They’d watched it on the same day, every year, together, ever since

“Oh, hey Soph, what are you doing here?” Niall smiled as Soph rushed past him, accidentally bashing him in the shoulder.

“No time!” Soph shouted, running into the guest room and slamming the door shut behind her.

“Ready?” Rose asked seriously, her finger poised over the touchpad, ready to hit Play. Soph nodded, both of them shifting comfortably next to each other.

They both started squealing silently as the music began to play, a five-years-younger Liam crooning at them about playing it cool.

“That’s your future husband.” Soph grinned, nudging her best friend. Rose just stared silently at the screen, unsure which was more inappropriate; jumping the screen, or running down the stairs and jumping the real thing instead. “You lucky cow.”

Rose said nothing - but Soph knew that was probably because she was salivating.

The video moved along and Harry was there next, posing like a... Well, like a dirty little poser. Soph knew that once upon a time, watching that one second clip of Harry staring at the camera had been enough to make Rose cry, but as Rose just stared thoughtfully at the screen, Soph felt at ease.

“You know he peed in front of me yesterday?” Rose said thoughtfully, tilting her head at the screen as Harry proceeded to what Rose used to call “stare into the depths of her soul”.

“Hmm, yeah, I heard something about that.” Soph murmured, not very surprised. Harry liked to show off with his trousers missing.

“Ohhh, it’s the shoulder shake!” Rose squealed, gripping Soph’s arm as Zayn appeared on screen. Soph took a small, silent intake of breath. Five years younger, Zayn was clean shaven, sporting the quiff that everybody had grown to love and was as silky smooth as a Bond movie, in his fitted suit and sexy, serenading expression. Soph had been obsessed with Zayn’s shoulder shake for so long after the One Thing video. If she’d had a bad day, she’d watch the clip.

Don’t judge, she had been only sixteen, for crying out loud.

“It’s better in person.” Soph said absent-mindedly, watching as Zayn continued to sing from a boat which Soph presumed to be on the Thames.

In fact, Soph was so far away in her thinking, she didn’t see as Rose froze, dropped a kernel of popcorn she’d been about to feed herself and stared at her best friend in shock.

“Hey!” Soph protested as Rose snapped the laptop shut, her eyes wide as she stared at her best friend. “What?”

“What do you mean, the shoulder shake is better in person?” Rose demanded in a low, menacing voice. “You’ve seen it?”

“Seeing his shoulder shake isn’t exactly a novelty, his cleaner saw it before this video even came out, remember?” Soph said quickly, yanking her hair out of its tight ponytail and shaking it, covering her face and dodging the question. Her roots hurt from pulling her hair back so tight, ouch.

“What happened to you last night?” Rose asked, narrowing her eyes.

“Nothing.” Soph said quickly. Too quickly.

“Soph, did you and Zayn sneak out?”

“Wh- no!” Soph spluttered, staring at her Rose’s earnest face, aghast. “God, no! I told you, I had to go to Shazia’s stupid anniversary party!” Upon Rose’s blank expression, Soph sighed. “And if Zayn happened to be there, it was pure coincidence.” Soph muttered under her breath.

“Soph!”

“It was!” Soph insisted, wishing she’d never said anything. Then again, at the same time, it was Rose. She wanted to tell her every little detail, no matter how insignificant Soph thought it all was. “Apparently, his cousin is Shazia’s husband’s best friend or whatever-”

“How do you even know that?” Rose gaped.

“He told me!” Soph said defensively. “Look, it’s not what it sounds like.” Soph added quickly, seeing Rose’s face. “He blackmailed me into spending the evening with him, Rose, it wasn’t exactly a friendly encounter!”

Soph realized it was the wrong thing to say as soon as she said it. Because now, there was no way Rose was letting Soph leave the room without telling her every little detail.

“... And then we just ended up... Hanging out.” Soph finally finished, a little over twenty minutes later. Rose was just staring at Soph in shock. “Rose, it’s not that big of a deal!”

“He’s so into you.” Rose shook her head, a small smile on her face. “He is SO into you!”

“Yes, of course he is.” Soph snorted. She’d replayed her and Zayn’s entire conversation, including insults, exempt the last drabs of conversation they’d had before the evening had ended. Some stuff was private. Or, more to the point, telling Rose any more at that moment may cause her head to explode. “He’s just broken up with his long-term blonde girlfriend, only started speaking to me about a week ago and was so desperate last night, he blackmailed me to hang out with him. Yes, he wants us to get married and have babies.”

“You checked on him after he saw Dianna.” Rose pointed out. “Not to mention all of those times he’s tried to apologize to you.”

“Yes and not only did it not work, but I also proceeded to annoy the crap out of him anyway afterwards.” Soph argued. “Anyway, he was acting really weird last night, he kept yelling about distinguishable hips or something and freaking out about it.”

“If he was acting weird, that proves my-” Rose stopped, only just realizing what Soph had said. “Distinguishable hips? What do you mean?”

Soph repeated Zayn’s reaction to her newfound girlyness.

“You took him by surprise.” Rose said confidently. “He just realized how hot you are!”

“No!” Soph protested, not liking the direction the conversation was going in.

Rose crossed her arms over her chest and stared at her best friend. She’d known Soph long enough to know when she was in denial; even if she hadn’t realized it yet. Distinguishable hips? And Soph didn’t find that strange?

Soph was so clueless sometimes.

*

Meanwhile, back downstairs in the kitchen, Zayn and Harry were having their own private conversation.

“... Tonight.” Zayn muttered, rubbing his face, as he leant against the worktop Harry was cutting up vegetables to make his stir-fry with. “She says she wants to talk after the show.”

“Tell her to sod off.” Harry muttered, chopping a carrot particularly harshly at the thought of that blonde hussy messing with Zayn’s head. “She was the one kissing another bloke, you don’t owe her anything.”

Zayn said nothing, staring at the wall. He hadn’t slept very much last night. He’d come in late after Shazia and Mo’s party, to find three missed calls from Dianna on his phone, which he’d kept on silent. The first time she’d called, Zayn had been with Soph at dinner. Clearly, Dianna hadn’t gotten the picture when Zayn had rejected the call almost immediately after it started ringing.

Zayn was still in shock at how last night had happened – not in a bad way. By the time the evening was over, Soph was even – dare he say it – having fun. They’d talked, they’d messed around and eventually, Layla had calmed down enough to join them with a few others. It had become apparent pretty quickly that Zayn and Soph were the odd ones out; more than a few times, people had nudged Layla and whispered in Soph and Zayn’s direction, but they’d both chosen not to care.

In fact, everything would have been fine, save for the fact that towards the end of the night, some random guy had started hitting on Soph. Soph, who was, as always, oblivious, had continued to talk to the creep whilst Zayn had sat there, seething. He wasn’t even sure why. In the end, Zayn had put it down to that phase of hating couples that single people went through after only recently changing their relationship status on Facebook.

The creep’s banter had continued with Soph until eventually, Zayn had managed to warn Soph off when he’d gone to say bye to one of the guests that were leaving, who neither Zayn nor Soph knew. Of course, Soph had brushed Zayn off and told him to calm the fuck down but when twenty minutes later, the asshole had tried it with Soph in a pretty straightforward way, Zayn had swooped to the rescue and left with Soph. Layla had already left and Zayn was pretty sure Soph didn’t want to take Shazia’s offer of riding home with her and Mo.

Soph had been angry, but for once, Zayn had managed to see underneath the anger – he’d also seen hurt.

So, acting on an impulse, he hadn’t taken Soph home or where she’d left her car parked at work in Hanover Square, off of Oxford Street. No. Instead, Zayn had driven her in his car to Selfridges. It was fairly quiet as it would be closing time soon, but as the 1D boys shopped there so often, the management hadn’t minded keeping it open for a while longer – just for Zayn, of course.

Even without the British public there, they’d felt self-conscious, walking around in clothes they usually wouldn’t be caught in outside events like Shazia’s. Zayn had taken out his favourite black leather jacket from the car and after they’d left, had even given it to Soph to keep her warm as they went back to the parking space.

Anyway, upon entering Selfridges with a confused and wary Soph, Zayn had headed straight for the Pinkberry bar on the top floor, in the food court.

It had taken two medium pomegranate and mango swirls (with chocolate brownie chunks, fruit pebbles, bananas, pomegranate sauce and bananas) before Soph had cheered up. Zayn was still on his first small chocolate swirl with nuts when Soph had suddenly put her spoon down and, with a small, honest smile, said;

“Thank you.”

Zayn had stopped and just nodded slowly, seeing the earnest, but still embarrassed expression on Soph’s face. After that, Soph had smiled gratefully at him and offered him a spoonful of her much brighter looking Pinkberry tub.

And that grateful smile on Soph’s face had been the reason Zayn hadn’t slept all night.

“Harry, can I ask you something?” Zayn asked his best friend suddenly, looking thoughtful. “It’s a bit weird.”

“Yeah, go on.” Harry shrugged, barely glancing up as he serenely attacked more carrots.

“Have you ever noticed that Soph has really distinguishable hips?”

Harry slowly turned to Zayn, his expression one of utter horror.

*

Rose was staring at Soph in surprise. Soph had been arguing against Rose’s notion that Zayn had a thing for her, or was flirting with her at least, when she’d let slip that next, Rose would be using Zayn’s attempts to redeem himself as an evil bastard and portray himself as a hero by saving Soph from that creep last night to make her fall in love with him.

Between being hurt that Soph hadn’t willingly told her and furious that somebody would dare do that to her closest friend, somebody so like a sister to her, Rose had fallen silent.

“I don’t know, I just always thought I was worth more than that.” Soph muttered, keeping her watery eyes focused on the floor. “I didn’t believe it when they all told me I had “whore” tattooed across my forehead.”

Knowing exactly who “they” were and having wanted to kill them for God knows how many years, Rose shook her head fiercely.

“No, you’re wrong.” Rose told her. “No. You’re not like that. It’s exactly because you’re not a slut that people think they can take advantage.”

“Yeah, Zayn said pretty much the same thing, but he almost crashed the car at the same time, so I pretended not to hear him.” Soph forced herself to laugh, before stopping abruptly and looking up at Rose. “Wow. It sounds so condemning when I put it like that, doesn’t it?” Soph thought for a moment. “Of course he was angry, but not for the reason it sounds. I think he was just pissed he was hanging out with those kinds of people, you know?”

“Mmm.” Rose murmured noncommittally. She wasn’t too sure, but now wasn’t the time.

“We should probably head downstairs, the boys will start thinking up wild sexual fantasies otherwise.” Soph laughed, wiping under her eyes for any tears as she stood up.

“Yeah.” Rose sighed, standing up and hugging Soph tightly. Soph let herself feel how she truly felt, just for a moment; hopeless, sad, hurt and most of all, dirty. He’d made her feel so cheap. “But you’re okay now, right?” Soph nodded. “Zayn made you feel better?”

Soph pulled away and looked wryly at her friend.

“What?” Rose asked innocently, as they both left the room. “It was just a question...”

*

Rose and Soph returned to the kitchen, where Niall and Harry were discussing whether salad was really that necessary when having stir fry (Harry: salad is the staple of all meals, regardless. Niall: Whatever, hurry up, I’m hungry).

“Back from the abyss, then?” Niall teased. “How was your night last night, Soph? As bad as you thought?”

“... It was okay.” Soph settled on saying. “It had its ups and downs. Aside from a few inevitable rough patches, I think I had a good night.” Soph thought of the Pinkberry and glanced at Rose and shared with her a knowing smile. “Surprisingly, an... Unexpected guest turned it around for me.”

Rose laughed lightly, both of them thinking of Zayn.

“So you had a good night then, Soph?”

Soph and Rose’s laughter stopped as Soph froze, the hair on the back of her neck rising again, just like it had the day before. She could feel it again. That presence behind her.

Instead of opting to slowly turn and give her time to think, Soph whipped around...

To find Zayn, with his arms crossed over his chest, his shoulder leaning against the door.

Absentmindedly, Soph took a mental note that today he was actually dressed in the house, for the first time since the catastrophe that had been their previous group dinner. He was in beige chinos and a V-neck white T-shirt, that showed the muscles that had been implied underneath the fabric of Zayn’s dress shirt yesterday.

“No.” Soph said stubbornly, panic rising in her chest, the tone of her voice making it evident. “No, I had a horrible evening. Detestable, so truly detestable. Having Hitler for company couldn’t have made it worse.”

“Oh, really?” Zayn asked, doing that terribly annoying thing where he fought a smile again, the corners of his mouth twitching. “Detestable?”

“I’m erasing it from my mind as we speak.” Soph told him, her hands clenched into fists, looking at Rose with pleading, panicked eyes. “Tell him, Rose.”

“Um...” Rose tried not to smile as Zayn turned to her, eyebrows raised happily. “Y-yeah, she hated it.” Rose had a sudden brainwave. Avoiding all eye contact with Soph, she continued: “She hated it just as much as she hates those Pinkberry fruit pebbles.”

Zayn’s smirk turned into a full-out grin as Soph rounded on Rose, aghast. Zayn and Rose both knew how much Soph loved her fruit pebbles. Zayn had witnessed it for himself yesterday, when she’d asked the boy at the counter if she could have a small tub of fruit pebbles just by themselves. She’d been willing to pay, too.

Not that Zayn had let her, of course. Soph had tried to protest, but to no avail.

Soph seemed to be recalling the same memory, because she turned back to Zayn and suddenly blurted;

“I still owe you for that, you shouldn’t have paid.”

Harry – who had been watching the exchange with a confused expression on his face, Niall watching silently, his bright eyes gleaming with satisfaction – turned to Rose.

“Am I missing something here?” Harry muttered, his eyebrows knitting together in his innocent confusion.

“Oh, honey.” Rose patted his shoulder with a sigh. “I wouldn’t know where to begin.”

“Don’t be stupid.” Zayn rolled his eyes, before stopping, a mischevious twinkle forming in the centre of his iris. “I always pay for a first date.”

Soph’s face was thunderous.

“That was a joke!” Zayn amended quickly, allowing a small chortle to escape his lips. “I’m kidding, Soph!”

“Wait a second, wait a second...” Harry said, shaking his head, his curls bouncing. Rose watched, amused. “Were you two together last night?”

“No.” Soph said immediately, at the same time that Zayn shrugged and said;

“Yes.”

“Stop doing that!” Soph yelled, frustrated. “Just stop it!”

“Soph-” Harry began to say, but Soph couldn’t hear anymore. All she could remember was the picture Harry had showed her, flashing continuously through her mind.

They were wrong, they were all wrong!

“I have to get back to work, I’ll see you guys later at the concert.” With only two days until the 1D tour officially kicked off, Soph was at every concert until they were too far for her to drive.

Wordlessly, ignoring Rose, Zayn, Niall and particularly Harry’s loud protests, Soph ran out of the door, ignoring Liam as she bumped past him.

“Is it just me, or did I see Soph actually partaking in some kind of physical activity?” Liam murmured, after hearing the door slam, entering the kitchen.

“No, that happened.” Rose nodded.

“You can thank me later.” Zayn grinned.

“I’m sure you shouldn’t be this cocky, considering your ex-girlfriend is trying to win you back.” Harry muttered, turning back to his vegetables and feeling irritated and rejected. Why wasn’t Soph telling him what was going on? Did this have something to do with Zayn and distinguishable hips? “And by the way,” Harry added as an afterthought, looking murderously at Zayn. “If you’ve tried to sleep with her, I’ll..” Harry thought for a moment as Zayn stared at him, wide-eyed. “Well, I’ll do something unpleasant to you.”

“So unpleasant, it can’t be put into words.” Rose added helpfully.

“Right.” Harry nodded. “So unpleasant, it can’t be put into words.”

“Well, hey there, sexy.” Liam teased Rose, kissing her on the cheek.

“Well, hey there, handsome.” Rose retorted, containing her laughter.

“I find this too dysfunctional, I’m sorry.” Zayn muttered, shaking his head and leaving the room.

“What’s up with him?” Liam muttered, leaning against the countertop and watching after him.

“He’s just trying to keep his buzz.” Niall sighed and told them all matter-of-factly. “What? Whatever is going on with him and Soph, he’s getting a buzz out of it.”

“She’ll go on her defensive soon.” Rose said, smiling at the thought of it. “She’s lethal. She’ll play him at his own game.”

“I don’t think flirting every harmed anybody, particularly with those two.” Liam frowned, considering it. “If anything, we’re all shipping them already, they should hurry up.”

“Do you want to leave Soph and her personal life for the allocated best friend to deal with?” Harry said crossly, rounding on them with his knife. Rose quickly dodged her eye being taken out. “Sorry. Allocated best friends, plural?”

“Oh, come on, you want them to happen as much as we do.” Niall sighed, folding his arms.

“And those two don’t get a choice?” Harry asked pointedly. “It’s none of our business. It’s not like Liam and Rose here, where everybody knows it’s going to happen.”

Rose and Liam shifted uncomfortably, Rose’s cheeks reddening as Liam glared holes into Harry’s head.

“Exactly.” Harry snapped, seeing their expressions change. “Now you can all shut up and get out of my kitchen. Lunch won’t be ready in an hour, otherwise and between Niall and Soph, we once again have no more Pot Noodle. Shoo. Louis is already buying dessert, leave unless you don’t plan on having any.”

Soph had been back in her office for little over an hour now and she was already due her lunch-break. She’d had a bit of a telling-off from her boss, but Soph had offered to take lunch off to make up for it. She’d been working solidly since, to try and keep her mind off of what had happened at the house. In fact, she’d finished everything she’d needed to do.

She was so desperate to not think, she’d even offered to run some errands for the Research Department. Aside from picking up a few swatch samples later from the Dolce & Gabbana store in Old Bond street, less than a ten minute walk away and only three minutes in the car, she had nothing else to do. She’d written her articles ahead of time and she couldn’t do her review of the 1D performance tonight until she’d gotten home.

She’d organized her files on her computer, changed her background three times and beaten her record of how many times she could click her pen in a minute, the record she had coincidentally made when she’d first met 1D at the Mandarin Oriental almost several months ago.

“Still nothing to do?” Marissa, one of Soph’s colleagues, asked sympathetically as she walked by. Soph shook her head forlornly. “I heard they were looking for an extra pair of hands downstairs, with help for this month’s cover design.”

Soph shrugged. No matter how much everybody loved chipping in with the cover design each issue, there were always one or two computer divas who thought they knew better. Who cared if they didn’t know what the difference between sans and sans serif was? Not even the head of department did, but those women still kept such a chip on their shoulder, you got bruised by being in the same room.

“Oh and by the way,” Marissa said, backtracking and stopping at Soph’s desk. Soph sat up attentively. Marissa only stopped walking when it was fairly important. “Someone downstairs for you, at reception. It’s a he. Says he’s here to see you?”

Soph perked up.

“Dark-haired, handsome and possibly carrying food?” Soph volunteered hopefully, thinking of Harry.

“That’s the one.” Marissa smiled. “I only caught a glimpse of him and I didn’t see his face, but if that butt is anything to go by, he is mighty fine.”

Soph laughed. Harry would appreciate that comment, she knew.

“You think the boss’ll mind if I head downstairs?” Soph wondered aloud. Her boss wasn’t a tyrant – in fact, Lauren was lovely, but she didn’t like people taking liberties. And considering Soph had always remained fairly much on her good side, she didn’t want that to change.

“Babe, considering the guy has a security team and will only answer to you, she’d probably be pissed off if you didn’t.” Marissa winked, before walking off. “Dish me the details later!” She called out over her shoulder, already halfway across the room, her corkscrew brown curls bouncing on her shoulders.

Soph sighed happily and stood up, heading straight for the elevator (she hadn’t eaten and had no calories to burn, so walking down those horrendously long flights of stairs was unnecessary). As soon as she told Harry talking about Z- HIM wasn’t on the cards, Harry would leave her alone. And before Soph had stormed out dramatically, that stir-fry had begun to look delicious.

Soph smoothed down the short, bright pink Gucci peacoat dress Fashion had been kind enough to give her as a welcome present. Her black skinny jeans were already somewhat of a legend at work anyway and for once, Soph was even wearing a pair of fairly feminine-looking black, obscenely high-heeled court shoes to work. As always, her hair was pulled back in a sloppy, high ponytail.

Soph mused as she watched her blurry reflection in the spotless elevator. She actually looked presentable for once.

“You wouldn’t be going downstairs with your jacket on, for any other reason than escorting me to the lobby, would you, Soph?” Lauren, Soph’s boss, smiled sweetly at her, her Californian accent snapping Soph to attention.

“Um... No?” Soph offered weakly.

“I thought so.” Lauren said dryly, as they reached the ground floor.

“Oh, Soph, your visitor is just here-” Dennis, one of the security guys, began to say at the same time Soph motioned cutting her throat with her hand.

“Guest?” Lauren asked, raising one eyebrow.

“Don’t worry, I’ll tell him to go.” Soph rushed, barely glancing at the shadow standing up from the couch out of the corner of her eye. She barely glanced in that direction, an ominous feeling falling on her shoulders slightly. “Go, leave, now.”

But Soph could only watch helplessly on as her attractive boss glanced to where Soph’s “guest” was sitting. Soph cringed. Not only was Harry visiting her for lunch not exactly subtle, but Lauren was a seriously pretty woman and only in her mid-twenties. She had piercing blue eyes, jet black hair, an hourglass figure and a perfect complexion. Harry wouldn’t be able to resist himself.

“Oh, no, no, no.” Lauren suddenly gasp, Soph’s eyes nearly popping out as Lauren’s eyes widened with appreciation.  Lauren added with a small, tinkling laugh, to the figure behind Soph’s shoulder.

Soph shot a desperate look at Dennis, who only looked back at her with a helpless, apologetic shrug.

“Lauren, I can explain-”

“You don’t need to explain anything, honey.” Lauren murmured, her eyes not coming away from the young man in front of her. She was proud of Soph. Who knew the girl who only wore pants could grab such eye-candy? She was learning. “You go to lunch. I’ll get Tessa to pick up those samples from D&G, I know you’ve finished your work.”

Soph hesitated. She wasn’t sure if this was a trick or not.

Still with her back to Harry, Soph told Lauren it was fine, she’d do it.

“Soph and her sense of humour.” Lauren said over Soph’s shoulder. “She’s such a worker-bee!”

“So I’ve heard.” Was Harry’s wry response, his Bradford accent only adding to the dry –

Wait, Bradford accent?

BRADFORD accent?!

Soph turned on her heel and – ashamedly – squeaked at the sudden sight.

Zayn stood there before her, in a pair of jeans, his V-neck white T-shirt from earlier, some black sneakers and his black leather jacket from the night before.

And he was holding three boxes.

Three boxes of Pizza Hut.

“Are you going to eat that all by yourself, or is one for me?” Lauren asked Zayn flirtatiously, as Soph gaped at him, her jaw hitting the floor.

Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no. Soph could only watch on in horror as watched what she knew was about to become her boss and Zayn, of all people, flirting with one another.

“Haha, no, it’s Soph’s actually.” Zayn laughed good-humouredly, making Soph squeak even more in protest. He turned to Soph. “And before you start, I got the right pizza.” Soph opened her mouth, ready to protest, but no words came out. “Two regular crust, extra large Veggie Supremes, with extra mushrooms and jalapenos.” Zayn took a breath. “And sweetcorn.” Zayn added. Soph looked at the three boxes. “I got one myself, but we can always share if you’re still hungry.” Zayn said with a cheeky smile.

“Wait...” Lauren muttered, her mouth upturning into a pouty grimace, turning to Soph. “Honey, the carbs.”

“And Pinkberry is only around the corner...” Zayn said persuasively, his eyes twinkling as Soph stared at him, trying to slowly blink away what was surely her imagination. “Now that I know what to order.” Zayn couldn’t help but smirk when he spoke again. “Extra fruit pebbles, right?”

Soph tried to speak, but there were just no words, as Zayn smirked triumphantly at her, holding the pizzas as Lauren watched them both with a knowing smile.

*

Rose hummed happily to herself as she helped herself to some more of Harry’s excellent stir-fry. The tuna steaks had been a nice touch.

“Hey.”

“Oh, hey.” Rose smiled, turning and seeing Liam there, holding his empty bowl. She stretched out her hand. “Want a refill?”

“Yeah, sure.” Liam smiled gratefully as Rose took his bowl, filling it up some more. She felt glad she wasn’t the only person having seconds. Or thirds. And possibly fourths later.

Yes, Harry’s cooking was that good.

Just as Rose set Liam’s now-full bowl down and was about to go for her own, Liam whipped her around, his body pressing against hers, his hands on either side of her hips on the counter.

Rose froze.

She chewed slowly on her lip as Liam looked down at her, his breath on her face.

She almost entirely stopped breathing, too, when Liam slowly bent his head down to hers, leaning in so his breath was tickling his ear.

“I wonder what you’d do if I kissed you, Rose.” Liam whispered, Rose almost passing out at the proximity of their bodies, the way Liam’s was lightly brushing hers, the feeling of his warm, oddly minty-smelling breath on her neck.

Liam pulled away so their faces were only inches away.

“Maybe we should find out.” Liam smirked, looking into Rose’s green eyes, glimmering with excitement.

It was so wrong.

But goddamnit, it was so good at the same time.

Liam leant his lips towards her, teasingly closer. Rose closed her eyes, ready for the feeling of his mouth pressed against hers, already knowing it would be even better than the many times she’d guiltily imagined it...

His lips brushed hers, just barely, and Rose felt tingles shoot down her spine as Liam shuffled closely towards her, just about to add that extra bit of pressure that would make it official, when...

“... More.” Rose’s eyes sprung open at the sound of Harry’s voice coming towards the kitchen, Liam and Rose instantly jumping away from each other. “Oh, you guys got refills.” Harry noted, apparently unaware of how just a mere millisecond ago, Liam hadn’t been on the other side of the room; quite the opposite. “Glad you liked it.” Harry nodded happily at them both, going to refill his own bowl. “Do you guys want some chilli sauce on this? Niall said it tastes good, I’m not sure though...”

Liam smirked at Rose from across the room, both of them drowning out the sound of Harry’s voice. Rose blushed and looked away, that guilty cesspit churning at the bottom of her stomach being whisked away by the hurricane that was Rose’s excitement at what had just happened.

Sneaking a look at a confident looking Liam, who was talking to Harry, from underneath her eyelashes, Rose accepted to herself that Soph and the others were right;

It was only a matter of time.

*

Soph felt terrified.

Lauren had practically thrown her out of Vogue House to go with Zayn and she’d never felt more confused in her life.

They were sitting in one of the many small, empty alleyways that accompanied the grand, brick buildings of the London Shopping District, currently sitting on the floor between the giant Banana Republic building and Liberty London on the turning between Oxford Street and Regent Street.

They sat beside one another, their legs apart, pizza boxes between their legs, watching curious onlookers as they ate.

“This is really weird.” Soph murmured, chewing her yummy pizza thoughtfully. Zayn had even remembered the extra cheese. She turned to Zayn, who was trying to flick off some mushroom he’d dropped onto his T-shirt, without leaving a tomato sauce stain. “You know anybody could recognize you, right?”

Zayn shook his head.

“By the time they realize, we’ll be long gone.” Zayn told her. “Nobody will believe for a second that the mighty Zayn Malik-” Zayn said this sarcastically. “- would be sitting on the floor in the middle of Oxford Street-”

“Technically, the beginning of Regent Street.” Soph corrected. It was the Londoner within her.

“- eating Pizza Hut and not Pret a Manger or whatever.” Zayn told her. “Pretty girl or not.” Zayn shrugged, biting into his pizza, probably not even realizing himself what he’d just said.

Soph nodded in vague agreement before turning to stare at him in disbelief, realizing what he’d just said.

She quickly turned away, dismissing it. Awkward.

“No, no, no, no.” Soph shook her head, seeing Zayn neatly fit the pointy end of the pizza in his mouth. Soph motioned to her own pizza, where she’d folded the pointy end over the crust. “Like this.”

“Who even does that?” Zayn muttered in confusion, through a mouthful of mushroom and pineapple.

Soph swallowed noisily.

“Who doesn’t?” She retorted, mirroring Zayn’s expression.

Zayn opened his mouth to retort, with something along the lines of how clearly abnormal Soph was, when a shadow fell on them both. They both stopped and looked up, neither happy with what they saw.

It was the creep who’d hit on Soph last night. He was in a business suit, his hair slicked back just like every other young businessman in the city, clean-shaven and with a shiny, baby blue tie in contrast to his black suit and white shirt.

He looked like Moriarty from the Sherlock series BBC had ran a few years ago, Soph thought in the back of her head.

Zayn’s expression instantly darkened, his eyes narrowing slightly, as Soph stopped chewing, her heart hammering in her chest. She was barely over the filth he’d made her feel yesterday and now he was here?

“Heya, Soph.” He smiled down at her. She couldn’t even remember his name. She didn’t like the way he was towering over her, blocking out her sunlight, even in the brightly lit alley in midday. He took in the discarded pizza boxes and the casual way that Zayn and Soph were sitting. “I could’ve taken you out to lunch.” He flickered his eyes towards Zayn, who was glaring at him. “My place has a sofa and everything.”

Soph couldn’t think of anything to say.

“We didn’t want to make it any harder for the police when they find forensic traces leading to your rape den.” Zayn said clearly, a fake smile on his face as he popped the p.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were a part of this conversation.” The creep told Zayn, with an irritated and forced, attempt at a cordial smile. “Soph, why don’t we walk for a bit? We can talk about last night.” He offered out his hand, which Soph watched, flinching slightly as he outstretched it.

“What’s there to talk about?” Zayn interrupted. The creep didn’t even look at him. Zayn stood up and brushed down the back of his jeans, standing close to him, clenching his fists as he crossed his arms over his chest, the creep turning to him with a disgusted curl of his mouth. “Sorry, you didn’t respond, I assumed you couldn’t hear me.”

“Does anybody other than you care about what you think?” The creep asked, - Soph wracked her brain, trying to remember his name – turned to Zayn with irritation, his eyes blazing. “Back off, mate.”

Soph gulped as Zayn simply raised his eyebrows, not moving, as the creep and he stared each other down.

“Soph,” Zayn said softly, his eyes not moving away from the idiot with his hand still in Soph’s face. “How about we head off for dessert now?”

That made Soph temporarily forget her anxiety at the odd and unsettling situation that had been unfolding before her.

She snapped to face Zayn, irritation etched on her features.

“Hey, I’ve still got half a pizza le-” Soph blanched as Zayn turned coolly to look at her, getting the message. “Yeah, cool, okay.” Soph squeaked, setting her pizza box aside and standing up, carefully avoiding the still outstretched hand. “Wasn’t too hungry anyway.” She muttered to herself, forlornly kicking her jalapeno covered pizza away.

“Sophia.” The creep said, not even bothering to look away from the cool stare Zayn was giving him. “Come on.”

Soph cleared her throat, looking at Zayn as she discreetly wiped any dust off of her bottom. If Fashion found out she’d sat in Regent Street in a Gucci dress, they’d kill her.

“You said Pinkberry?” Soph said hopefully, still hungry, her face dropping slightly as Zayn shot her a quick, desperate glare. Maybe she wasn’t meant to tell the other guy where they were going. Oops. “Because I don’t fancy it, I was thinking somewhere more...” Soph covered, glancing at the creepy stalker guy in a suit as his eyes widened in disbelief as Soph’s decision. “Discreet?” Soph settled on saying, letting the implication hang heavily in the air between the three of them.

“Soph, I’ll take you out, I’m starving.” Suit Guy laughed in disbelief, looking at her. His hand still hadn’t moved.

“You are?” Zayn asked in mock-surprise, before... No. No, no, no, Soph gasped in her head, as Zayn picked up one of his slices of pizza from his box on the floor. Soph physically bit back a gasp – of horror or joy, she couldn’t tell – as Zayn slapped the slice, oozing with tomato sauce and lukewarm cheese, on Suit Guy’s crisp white shirt. “Have something on me.”

Soph slapped a hand over her mouth, trying not to laugh at the pure craziness of it all. Oh dear God, what was happening?!

“Come on, Soph.” Zayn muttered smoothly, not taking his eyes off of Suit Guy’s outraged face, his hand hovering over the small of Soph’s back. Soph obediently walked past Suit-slash-Tomato-Suit Guy, her hand still covering her mouth, her eyes wide as she caught his glance and looked away, fighting a hysterical, high-pitched giggle. “Let’s go.”

Zayn gave Suit Guy one last, lingering look of subtle triumph, before he and Soph walked onto New Regent Street, the giant Mango store looming ahead of them.

“Oh my God.” Soph whispered, through a giggle, feeling Suit Guy’s eyes on them. “Oh my God, I almost threw up back there, do you know how much Haagen Dazs you’re going to need to line my stomach?”

“You still want dessert?” Zayn shook his head with a smile, smirking they begun to cross the busy road, Suit Guy’s eyes boring into their backs. “Are you serious?”