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Summary
“So,” Liam tears the paper off a straw and swirls the ice around in his cup. There’s a lump in his throat he can’t seem to swallow down, and his hands are starting to quake. He hopes he isn’t too obvious, and god, he wishes he couldn’t remember Sunday night at all. It’d be a million times better to have it all wiped from his memory and bullshit his way through not knowing Zayn well, or even better, pretend he couldn’t remember him at all. He tears his eyes away from a bead of water sliding down the side of his cup to look up at Zayn. “How’ve you been?”
Zayn licks the corner of his mouth and clicks the top of his pen. “Can I get you started with anything?”
Series
- Part 6 of the block party 'verse