Maybe

(Niall and Zayn)
When bestfriends Simran & Mollie meet two boys on the tube, will something more become of it? Or will heartbreak be the only thing left?

Maybe.

Will their past change the future? Will their future affect the present?

Maybe.

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56. House Shopping

***Simmie's POV***
It was the latter days of September. The smell of cinnamon lingers in the apartment and the crunchiness of leaves outside soundtracks my thoughts. I do love autumn though, winter's my second favourite season. Anticipation for snow hangs in the air, according to the news. I'm travelling back home, for my parents anniversary next weekend. Zayn's coming with me to meet my family (officially) and announce our engagement. He's met them over Skype but that isn't the same. I'm really nervous. We've decided on an autumn wedding at the end of November/beginning of December.

Packing stuff into big cardboard boxes, I think about everything that Zayn did for me. Our first date, I remember smiling to myself. He came to my office on a Friday, out of the blue, and started streaming roses all over my office. He then hid in my office, under my desk. When I walked into my office, seeing all these flowers, you can imagine the shock I had when I sat down and had his hands running up my legs. I'm glad I wore trousers that day! We spent my lunch break eating Chinese takeout before he sneaked out. 

 

I remember on our second date, we went for a walk around Hyde Park, taking photos. Photography is one of our common secret interests. He had his woolen black coat on, tailored with a red scarf. I had my grey massive jumper on. After a while, he dragged me under a canopy of trees, leaves on the floor and falling around us. He let me watch them before kissing me senseless. He put his red scarf around my neck and it's in my drawer now, with half of his stuff. I wear it when he's not around.

 

We pretty much live in each others apartments. Half of my dresser has his stuff it in and my clothes are strewn around his room. We're going house shopping soon. Mollie and my lease is running out soon, so I think we're going looking tonight.

 

The media is leaving us alone now, we still the rumors running around but we don't care any more. We're happy and nothing can drag us down now.


Staring out the window, I think about how my life's changed in the past few months. I have an amazing fiancée, who cooks for me. He's giving up smoking for me. Snuggling deeper into my jumper (his hoodie) I wrap my arms around myself, finding the strange craving for crisps. I'm home alone on a Sunday afternoon, Zayn's popping around later, he's spending the night watching movies with me. He's got concerts this week, all over the country; he wants to spend time with me before he goes. Pressing shuffle on my iPhone, I let the random shuffle of blues, country and pop swim through the apartment.

Mollie's out with Niall, I think Mollie took him to Rochester on the train for the weekend. She should be back tonight.
Scouring the kitchen cupboards, I realise I'm down to the last packet. Over the last few days, I've been having the urge to eat crisps at random times. I'm going to get really fat for my wedding, aren't I?
Note to self: take Mollie with me for dress shopping. Maybe even Mum as we for a new sari? And stop eating crisps.
Checking my phone, I scroll through my calendar. Seeing a little sad face appear in the corner of last Wednesday, I click on the day.
Realisation dawns on me. I'm late. Sitting down, I take deep breaths. Calming myself, I convince myself to go to the drug-store. It's just a coincidence, I tell myself. Everyone's late once in a while. I mean, I normally get cravings anyway. I'm just checking.
Walking down the aisle with my hood up, I grab three tests. Paying for them, I rush back into the apartment.
Ten minutes later and three tests later, I'm sitting on the edge of the bath tub crying; not sure if its for joy or relief.

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