Everything in my life has been amazing for the last week, and I can't remember the last time I said that and truly meant it.

Zayn and I have been together almost every night, just enjoying one another's company and learning so much about each other.

I learned that Zayn is a Scorpio, born on November Third. He has two dogs that he adores, and his brother is about to get married. He subtly asked me to come with him, but it wasn't quite an invitation, so I brushed it off.

We talked about our hopes for our careers and what we want the future to look like. As we continued to talk, I realized just how compatible we really are.

We both want to focus on our careers before starting a family. We're both introverted and enjoy time apart from other people. We both want to live somewhere near the ocean, as long as it's financially smart.

I never used to think about my future, but every time we approached the subject, he pulled answers out of me that I didn't even realize I had. For the first time in a long time, I want to grow older.

It's been years since I actually thought about my dream house and what future I want to make for myself. When Zayn asked me, though, the words came spilling out. I couldn't stop thinking of things I want to do and goals I want to accomplish.

I could talk to Zayn for hours, and we did some nights.

Zayn's been busy with work, so most of our conversations were on the phone. He's been keeping himself extra busy, and I can tell it's because of his dad. He's avoiding something, but I'm not going to push him to talk about it until he's ready.

Instead, I've got to focus on my own job and keeping Natalie happy.

I park in my usual spot and grab my bag before heading into the office. I'm starting to finally feel a bit comfortable here, rather than a visitor.

I walk into Natalie's office and leave her daily coffee and bagel on her desk, shutting the door behind me and sitting at my own desk.

It's nearly the end of the month, so I've got a lot of paperwork to do, leaving me busy for most of the day.

As the day slowly passes by, I can feel my energy draining. I've been so charged and extroverted for the past couple of days, but I always knew it'd come to an end. It always does.

When five o'clock rolls around, Natalie informs me I can go home as she rushes out of the office. I sluggishly pack up my stuff and walk to my car, feeling exhausted and numb all at once.

I just don't understand this. How can everything be going so well, and suddenly I completely crumble?

I rest my forehead on the steering wheel and take a few deep breaths. I can feel myself getting choked up. I'm practically begging my brain to shut off.

I can't handle another breakdown.

"Fuck," I mumble under my breath, pinching the inside of my wrist to try and calm myself down.

I groan and clench my eyes shut. "Just breathe. Breathe, breathe, breathe." I repeat, my voice merely a whisper.

My eyes sting with the familiar build-up of tears. I know as soon as the first tear falls that this one is going to be bad. They don't stop, and my small amount of mascara starts staining my face.

I dial the number without thinking, having memorized it at this point.

I pray that she answers, whispering please in between my sobs.

"Hello?" Dr. Sweeney answers.

"It's bad," I mutter, trying to catch my breath.

"Scarlett? What's going on?" She asks, concern laced in her voice.

I sigh, taking a deep breath. "I was fine. I'm fine. Um- I don't understand this. I can't even control my own emotions,"

"You're going to have good days and bad days, Scarlett. Your brain and your medication are imperfect, but it's important to focus on your breathing right now- nothing else."

I pause for a moment, shutting my eyes and counting to three with Dr. Sweeney. We do this for a few minutes before my heart stops racing and my sobs have stopped.

"Thank you, Dr. Sweeney. I know I'm not supposed to call your personal number like this." I ramble out my usual apology, even though I frequently call her when episodes like this.

Dr. Sweeney lets out a soft laugh. "You know I don't mind. Let's schedule a time to meet in person this week. We must talk this through,"

"Yeah. Tomorrow?" I ask.

"I've got an opening at 2 P.M, does that work for you?"

"Yeah. Thanks again." I hang up quickly and toss my phone.

I don't want to be around life right now. I don't even want to see Jordyn when I walk into my apartment. I just want to be left alone.

I start the car and find myself driving around aimlessly for over an hour before finally making it home.

I notice I've missed a call from Zayn but choose to ignore it. I can't be around him right now. Not when I'm in this state.

I don't want to push him away, though. He said he wanted to be there for me, and I believe him, but it's so hard for me to let people in.

Trust isn't something I handled well.

I walk into my apartment and drop my keys on the counter, rushing into my room before Jordyn could come out and talk to me.

I strip out of my work clothes and into a comfortable pair of sweats and a t-shirt.

I cocoon myself into my blankets and turn on Tangled to give the darkness of my mind some comfort.

Before I can even press play, a soft knock sounds at my door. "Scar?"

"Come in,"

The door creaks open slowly, and Jor slips in, shutting it behind her. "Are you okay?"

I nod, staring off at the TV to avoid her eyes. "Just tired,"

Jordyn rolls her eyes, sitting on the edge of my bed. "You and I both know that's a big ass lie."

"Look, Jordyn, I'm not in the mood to talk. I don't want to snap at you, and I physically don't have the energy to fake any form of kindness," I tell her honestly.

She doesn't look hurt. She just nods and gets up, giving me a small smile. "I'm making some pasta. I can bring you a plate,"

I fight back the tears as she heads for the door and mumbles a thank you before she heads out of my room. I don't deserve her. I never will.

I hear a few texts coming in, but I just ignore them, switching off my phone and cuddling my pillow as I watch the movie.

The next day was just as bad, probably worse, because I didn't get any damn sleep last night.

Luckily, it's a Sunday, so I don't have to go to work. Natalie would call me with any urgent assignments if needed.

I stayed in bed until my therapy appointment, reading and watching TV occasionally.

I don't bother changing as I grab my keys and head out to my car to get to therapy. I didn't bring my phone, either, and I'm praying I don't miss anything important for the next hour.

Nothing felt right. My life just feels like a bunch of discombobulated puzzle pieces, and I can't figure out where any of them go.

Even my session with Dr. Sweeney felt wrong. She isn't treating me differently, and her energy is completely the same. It just felt off.

I drive myself home, leaving the session early just to lay back in my bed and ignore the world.

Jordyn checks on me quickly once she gets home, and I stay unbothered until nearly seven at night.

I hear loud knocking at the front door, ignoring it as I scroll through Twitter. I hear Jordyn answer it and hear the other person's deep voice, but it's muted behind the wall.

They talk back and forth for a while before Jor comes into my room, a concerned look on her face.

"There's someone here for you," she says softly.

"Just send them away," I groan, rolling over.

"It's Zayn. He's really worried, Scar,"

I sit up and look towards the door longingly. I want to see him, but I also don't. I know that as soon as I see him, I'm going to want to confide in him. I don't want to put my burdens onto him.

Before I can question myself, I fold. "Can you tell him to come in here, please?"

Jordyn smiles subtly and nods, spinning around to get Zayn. After a minute or so, I see his tall figure in my door frame, looking at me with eyes full of worry.

"You're alive," he jokes, shutting the door and kneeling next to the bed to meet my face.

"That I am," I answer sarcastically.

He frowns. "What's going on, Scar? Are you questioning this?"

I shake my head, closing my eyes. "No. I promise," I grab his hand, sitting up and resting against the headboard. Zayn sits across from me on my bed now, his eyes scanning every inch of my face.

"I have good days and bad days. The bad days are extra bad. I think my medication has something to do with it. These past few days have been really bad." I ramble.

He sighs, rubbing his thumb across my hand. "I understand. You know you can come to meet with this stuff now, right? I want to be here for you, love." He says, moving closer to me.

"I know that. It's hard for me, but I'm really trying."

He brings my hand to his lips, kissing it gently. "I know, baby."

After a minute of silence, Zayn kicks off his shoes and settles himself into my bed, wrapping his arms around me. I lean into his touch, my eyes fluttering shut.

"I brought you to take out if you want it." He mumbles into my hair.

My heart swells, and I nod once, wrapping my hands around his arms and pulling him closer to me.

I've never wanted to be next to someone more in my life. I feel like I can't get close enough to him. I feel myself relax and fall into a deep sleep, feeling safe in his arms.

I wake up to an empty bed about an hour later, but the open door and the muffled chattering coming from the kitchen tell me Zayn is still here.

I smile to myself and pull myself out of bed, and head into the kitchen.

I'm met with Jordyn, Riley, and Zayn sitting across from one another, talking and drinking beers.

"Hey, babe! We're warming up from takeout from the Chinese place down the road," Jordyn welcomes, smiling brightly.

I nod my head and smile, taking the stool beside Zayn. Riley and Jordyn are facing us, standing and leaning against the island.

Zayn greets me with a smile, grabbing my hand and kissing the back of my hand.

Jordyn practically fainted when I told her about Zayn and me. They've started actually becoming friends, too, since he's always at the apartment. The four of us have gotten pretty close, and I couldn't be more grateful to have all three of them in my life.

I can tell by how Zayn is looking at my lips that he wants to kiss me, but he knows how shy I get about PDA, so he avoids it most of the time. He always finds little ways to touch me, though.

"Want a beer?" Riley offers, standing up and going to the fridge.

I shake my head and stand up too. "I think tonight is a wine kind of night,"

Jordyn jumps up and claps. "Yes! I just bought a bottle of Chardonnay." She rushes out of the room and towards the liquor cabinet.

We all laugh at her excitement and Riley watches her with love as she comes back and pours us our wine with joy written all over her face.

Once the microwave beeps, Zayn slips from his chair, and Riley grabs the plates. They work together to give all four of us dinner, and we head into the living room.

We forced the boys to watch the newest episode of The Bachelorette, but once they finished their food, they went into the kitchen and talked amongst themselves.

The emptiness in my soul hasn't left, but my heart feels full. I love knowing that I finally have a solid support system, and I know that I want to open up fully to Zayn.

If we're going to work on trust and truly build our relationship, I have to open up to him completely. All he's ever been is honest to me and forthcoming about his trauma, and I've finally realized that I can trust him, and I really want to.

---

The four of us call it a night around eleven. Zayn and I walk back to my room, my third glass of wine tight in my hand.

I'm already feeling a little buzz, but it's the perfect amount, and I don't plan on drinking too much more.

I set my glass down and sigh, falling into bed.

"Tired, beautiful?" His low voice asks, standing in between my legs, looking down.

Our eyes meet, and I swear I could melt under his gaze. I can't take the time to analyze the emotion behind those hypnotizing green eyes before his lips are on mine.

His kiss is hungry and lazy, the beer on his lips mingling with the wine. His hands find my waist as he lifts me gently and positions us comfortably on the bed.

We continue to make out a bit more but stop and just cuddle for a while, making jokes and telling stories.

I know as I lay in his lap, his hands tightly wrapped around me and his chin resting on the top of my head, that I want to tell him the truth.

"Zayn?"

"Yes, baby?" He mumbles sleepily.

"Can we talk about something?"

I feel him tense around me. "Sure. What's up?" He responds calmly.

I take a deep breath, shutting my eyes and trying to detach all my emotions from my memories as I retell my story.

"When I first got to college, I had a boyfriend. We started dating at the beginning of the year. At the time, I wasn't, um- I was a virgin, and I didn't want to do that with him,"

Zayn holds me tighter, his fingers tracing mindless shapes on my hand and arm, comforting me to continue.

"After a couple of weeks, he was tired of waiting. He started pressuring me more and being aggressive. Eventually, I got invited to my first frat party, and I got really, stupidly drunk and, well, he was there and," I pause. This story is still hard to tell, and I don't think it'll ever be easy for me to talk about.

I decided just to say it, no more bullshit. "He ra- he sexually assaulted me and never faced punishment for it, and it's fucked me up emotionally ever since. I had problems before from other childhood stuff, but that just made it all worse. He's ruined my perception of the world and made me question every decision I make. I don't know, it just really messed me up and-"

He flips us so he can look over me, his hand finding my cheek. I lean into his touch and shut my eyes, avoiding his concerned and angry eyes.

"Thank you for opening up to me, Scarlett. I'm so sorry. The thought of someone," he pauses, looking away with a clenched jaw. "I promise no one will ever hurt you like that again."

As our eyes connect and his thumb swipes away my single tear, I can see the genuine care in his eyes. It's not a pitying look, and that makes me like him that much more.

For the first time in a long time, I feel completely and utterly safe.