On the last day of the trip, I yet again spent the majority of my time in my room, packing, wandering around and being useless. I wasn't even sure which was worse, staying here in the rather awkward limbo we were in or going back to New York to Lyon's mansion, which held the most horrid memories for me. I could have sworn a couple of weeks back that the place would drive me insane, but now I have this strange sense of longing for the absurd normalcy it brought. I would go back to being confined to a lonely room and Zayn would go back to being oblivious of my existence; we would work in perfect harmony. As I shut the suitcase, I realized that I had made up my mind, New York it was.
“Would you like me to carry that bag for you?” Zayn asked, pointing to a particularly heavy bag slung across
