I sat there for a while, still in shock from seeing Zayn shout at me, but I refused to let that moment tear us apart. Taking a steady breath, I got up and followed him downstairs.
When I reached the living room, he was slouched on the couch, head resting against the backrest, eyes closed as if trying to shut me out. Quietly, I stepped closer. From behind, I cupped his face in my hands and leaned down, pressing my lips softly against his.
"Get your hands off me, Evric," he muttered, pulling away abruptly.
He stood up and walked over to the dining table, sitting on one of the chairs with his back rigid. I sighed, hesitated for a moment, then followed him. Without asking, I slipped onto his lap, resting against him.
"Babe," I whispered, my voice low and careful. "Why are you so angry with me? You could just turn me down without getting upset. What did I do wrong?"
His gaze met mine briefly before he looked away. "You did nothing…" he said flatly.
