My first day of work starts today, and I don't think I've experienced a more stressful Monday morning in my life.

I've spoken to my new boss on the phone a couple of times since I was hired, and she seems nice enough, but I know how assistants can be treated.

As an assistant to a publisher at a very successful publishing house, I can't say I've ever felt more unprepared.

Luckily, Jordyn and I spent our Sunday running to every clothing store in a ten-mile radius, filling up my closet with appropriate office attire.

By the time I finish rummaging through my entire wardrobe, I'm clad in light brown linen dress pants and a white knit top. It's long sleeve and loose-fitting, allowing my black belt to cinch my waist as I tuck in my shirt.

I was told that our office tends to lean on the "comfortable but professional" side of fashion. Hopefully, this is what they had in mind.

It's been three days since Zayn took care of me, drunk and weeping. I haven't heard from him since. I texted him in the morning to thank him, but he never responded. I went to 25 Hours last night and waited for him, but he didn't show. I hope he's okay. I've avoided calling him because I don't want to seem like I'm obsessed with him.

You kind of are obsessed with him, Scarlett.

I roll my eyes at my own thoughts and grab my purse, along with my work materials, and head out the door.

Jordyn had to leave for Texas this morning to visit her family, so I'll have the apartment to myself for the next week. I never liked living alone. The silence always left me uneasy.

I rush to my car and plug in the directions for my new office building. It's right in the middle of Los Angeles, about twenty minutes away from my apartment. I spent the drive blasting every uplifting song I could think of and trying desperately not to think of the curly brunette that has yet to answer my calls.

The last thing I need is a damn boy distracting me on my first day at a new job.

Once I got to the tall silver building, I walked in, my white heels clicking against the tiled floors. Everything about this place screamed professionalism, and I felt so out of place.

I headed up to the fifth floor, where my boss was waiting for me.

"Scarlett! You're here. I'm so excited to get started," My boss, Natalie Rae, walks out of her office to greet me. She is beautiful, and her presence commands respect. She's dressed in a grey pantsuit with a black top underneath and matching heels. Her long blonde hair cascades down past her shoulders, and her tan skin compliments her bright blue eyes beautifully. She's intimidating but also extremely welcoming.

I'll be her assistant going forward, doing everything she asks of me and making sure it's perfect. I'll be doing that until I can become the next her. This is where I start, and I know I can do this.

"Natalie, hi!" I greet her. We shake hands, and she pulls me into her office, closing the door behind her.

"So, how are you feeling? Nervous, excited?" She sits down in front of her desk and rests her elbows on the desk, resting her head in her hand as she awaits my answer.

"A little bit of both, I think. I'm anxious to get started," I answered honestly. Natalie liked that answer because she dove right into telling me just about everything I needed to know, and then some.

She put me to work right away, giving me a pile of documents to proofread before their publications. I met mostly everyone that works in the same space as me. We've all got desks outside of the many office spaces. Offices are for publishers and other higher-up positions, whereas the desks on the floor are for assistants.

There are two other women, Leah and Cheyanne. They've both been here for a little over a year so they immediately offered to help me get the hang of things.

The rest are men, some of which I spoke to and some who merely said hi. Everyone's very busy here, and it's actually nice to see the work ethic.

For the most part, though, I stayed to myself and tried to get as much work done as possible. The day was long, but I found myself having fun and genuinely enjoying this new stage of my life.

By six o'clock, the office cleared out, and Natalie told me to come an hour early tomorrow with a coffee for her and myself. She's demanding, but she's always professional and kind in everything she asks for.

I've already seen two of the assistants on my floor get bitched out, and I'm sure that day will come for me as well. She's my boss, and I don't expect our relationship to be completely harmless.

I pick myself up some takeout from the Italian restaurant nearby and make my way home. The streets are packed, making my typical twenty-minute commute nearly an hour-long, but I don't mind. I've always seen driving as a mental escape. It gives me time to decompress and be alone with my thoughts for a little bit.

I pull into my parking lot and walk up to my apartment. Before I can get there, though, I see a large figure sitting on the steps up to my apartment. My heart speeds up a little as the person lifts their head to reveal a familiar face.

Zayn's chiseled bone structure and piercing green eyes catch my attention immediately, and I find myself walking a bit faster to get to him.

"Zayn? What are you doing here?" I ask as I get closer. Once I'm standing in front of him, I notice the sadness in his eyes and the exhaustion written all over his face.

He doesn't say anything, he just looks up at me. I sit down beside him and place my food and purse on the step below us. My hand finds its way to his, and I hold it, tugging a bit so he'll look at me.

"Are you okay?" I whisper.

After a minute or so of silence, he finally turns and faces me. My heart falls into my stomach as I see the tears piling up, begging to fall. He just shakes his head, one small movement that makes my entire world feel dark.

I pull him into a hug and rub his back soothingly, trying my damn best to give him the comfort he needs.

"I'm sorry. I don't mean to burden you with this," he says, his voice low and raspy.

I shake my head. "You're not burdening me with anything, Zayn. Please come inside."

He nods shortly, and we stand up. He grabs my food and purse from the ground, making me smile. Even when he's clearly in pain, he's still an absolute gentleman.

I unlock the door, and we flood into the apartment. It's quiet as we sit on the stools in my kitchen, facing one another again.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I ask warily, hoping not to spark any unwanted emotions. I get how hard it can be to talk about something you've spent so long holding in. It's clear that whatever he's dealing with is extremely hard for him, and the last thing I want to do is make it any worse.

He looks around, analyzing his surroundings. "Is Jordyn here? I don't want to ruin your night."

"She's visiting her family in Texas. Besides, the last thing you're doing is ruining my night. I'm just glad you're okay." I blurt.

"I'm sorry I haven't answered you in a couple of days. I just- I had to deal with some things."

I shake my head. "It's fine, Zayn, really. Everyone needs time. I was just worried about you." He grabs my hand, looking grateful for my understanding.

He takes a deep breath as if preparing for his next words. "It's my mother's death anniversary today, and some stuff with my Dad got brought up and," he pauses, shutting his eyes and taking a moment before continuing. "It's just been a really shitty week. I went to visit my brother. That's why I've been MIA for a few days."

"I'm so sorry, Zayn. You know if there's anything you need, seriously anything, I am here for you." I move my other hand to his shoulder and squeeze gently.

He sighs into my touch, closing his eyes for a second before responding. "I appreciate that, Scarlett. More than you know."

He lets go of my hand, and before I can protest, he gently pulls my face to his, kissing me softly. His hand wraps around the backside of my neck, squeezing softly before getting lost in my hair.

Chills flow down my spine as the familiar bumps of pleasure rise on my skin. My hands follow his lead as he deepens the kiss, tangling into his hair.

Once we pull apart, his lips are swollen, and his hair is a mess. "That's one way to make me feel better."

"Do you want to stay here tonight?" I blurt, not even entirely sure why the hell I just asked him that.

He smiles. "If you want me here, I'm here."

I left out a soft laugh, covering my face from the overly excited look I'm sure I'm holding. "Good answer."

I pull him in for another kiss, a soft, slow one this time. When we break apart, he looks like he's contemplating something.

He pauses for a moment, looking into my eyes. "I want to ask you something," he starts.

"What is it?"

He sighs. "I know we said we'd take everything slow, and if that's still what you want, I'm all for it, but-"

I know where this is going. At least, I think I do. We've had this weird kiss and don't tell thing going on, and we've talked on the phone about how we plan on having a relationship at some point. We just haven't really spoken about it since then. The consensus was that we'd take it slow. But how slow?

"Zayn, before you ask me out, there's something you should know," I interrupt, looking down rather than into his curious eyes.

"What is it?" he asks. He doesn't seem shocked that I stopped him.

I take a deep breath and try not to make the emptiness I feel in my soul show in my eyes as I look at him. I prepare to tell him what I've neglected telling him since we met. He's opened up to me so much, and I think it's time that I finally do too.

"I have clinical depression. I'm medicated, I've been to rehab three times, and I've tried to end my life more than once. It's not an easy thing to deal with, and um- I understand if you don't want to be involved with someone like me. Seriously. No hard feelings at all, I get it. It's a lot to deal with and-"

"Scarlett," he says calmly. He grabs my hand and rubs small circles on it with his thumb. "Your depression isn't something you need to warn me about. It's only one part of you, not who you are. I want to get to know all of you, regardless of the scary parts."

"But-"

"I like you, Scarlett, so much that it scares me when I think about it for too long. You do not have to warn me for something that you cannot control, something that could not possibly make me like you any less. I can't imagine what you've gone through, but I want to be there for you. If you'll have me."

The way he is looking at me is enough to make me fall in love on the spot. Not literally, but it feels like a scene out of a movie. The words he is saying are perfect, and the touch of his skin on mine feels magical.

"But you don't understand, Zayn. It's unpredictable. I just, I need you to understand what you'd be getting involved with."

He shakes his head. "I do understand. I promise. I experienced a lot of what depression can do to someone with my mother. Not saying I'm an expert or anything, but just because you have a mental illness doesn't mean you should cheat yourself of forming new relationships."

It's hard to believe him. I mean, how could I? No one has ever stayed before.

I've got Jordyn. Jordyn is the only one who has stuck by me through the depressive episodes and the mental breakdowns. She's seen me at my worst, and when everyone else ran, she stayed.

How can I expect Zayn to stay beside me, a girl he hardly knows, when I can't even trust my own mind enough to let him in?

He's right, though. I'm sick of cheating myself of every possible new connection. I avoid making new friendships because I know I'll sabotage it before they can reach their full potential.

I don't want to do that with Zayn. I want him in my life.

When I don't say anything, he lifts my chin, looking into my eyes again. "Scarlett, I want you to be my girlfriend."

I don't even think about my answer because, truly, I'm fucking tired of thinking.

"Yes. Just yes."

———

Happy Sunday :) I skipped a week due because I got really busy, but I'm hoping to have this story finished in time for the watty's, so expect more frequent updates!

Thank you for reading! Let me know your thoughts & give a vote if you enjoyed.