When Harry returned bearing two overflowing bowls of popcorn, he discovered his bedroom in a state of utter silence. The air was thick with tension.
“It’s awfully quiet in here,” he chuckled nervously, placing the bowl between his two friends. Zayn immediately snatched the bowl from the bed, nibbling steadily. Charlotte scoffed.
Silence prevailed for a few minutes before Harry interjected, “C’mon mate! You’re hogging the bed and the popcorn. At least let Charlotte have something.”
“You’re right, Haz,” Zayn nodded to feign agreement. He removed a pillow from his back and faced Charlotte. “Forgive me. Where are my manners today?” He hurled the pillow at Charlotte, who swiftly dodged his pitch. Harry stood, and the pillow flew into his capable hands with a slight jolt.
“Funny you should mention that, because I’ve been wondering the same thing,” she muttered, her words spewing out in a distraught mess. She snatched her bag from the floor and marched out of the room.
Harry shouted after her, but she didn’t bother trying to understand his muffled words. The fuming dancer stopped in the living room, rubbing circles on her temples. He sat beside her on the leather couch and waited patiently for her to speak.
She sighed heavily. “He told me that he hates me…and I just don’t…I just can’t understand why.”
Harry opened his mouth to speak, but no words made it past his lips. He wanted to choose his words wisely. “Zayn can be…a little mood sometimes. Being angry with him is a waste of your energy.”
“Then I’ll eat a power bar,” she barked back. Harry failed to stifle a laugh, and Charlotte scowled. “Something funny?”
He shook his head. “I’m just a happy person.”
“Have some respect. I’m trying to be angry here,” she muttered crossly, tapping her foot in frustration. He held his hands up in defeat, utterly unable to wipe the smile from his face.
She was silent for a moment, wallowing in her own rage. Her brows furrowed in concentration and her hands bawled into fists at her side. “I mean who does he think he is to say I ruin everything and everyone. He doesn’t even know me!”
She groaned in frustration. “Caught your second wind, huh?” Harry smiled.
“There’s just no logical explanation for it! It’s absurd!” she grumbled and squeezed a nearby mocha washed pillow. “Okay, second wind…done,” she exhaled.
Harry snickered softly. “Don’t read too much into what he said, Charlotte.”
“Would you please stop doing that!” she begged.
His eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “Pardon?”
“My brother calls me Charliebear, El calls me Charlie, my friend Ivy calls me C,” she explained. “So take your pick…or make your own. I just…hate being called Charlotte.”
“Well then, Char,” he paused looking to her for approval. She smirked and nodded. “I believe that this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship,” Harry confessed.
“Friendship of the beautiful,” she corrected.