ೃ⁀➷ In the year 1994,
Maya Bennet travels to New York to attend a famous music festival, Woodstock. After stumbling into the wrong tent when searching for her lost boyfriend, she has an odd interaction with a handsome mysterious stranger. A year l...
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Sunlight creeps in through the window across the room as I glance down at the ground, staring at Maya's clothes which are sprawled out against the floor. I smile to myself at the sound of the shower hissing down the hall as I lay in bed with a towel wrapped loosely around my hips.
An old newspaper lays on my desk across the room, flipped to a page with Madison's face on it with the word 'missing' written in bold letters over the black and white image. I quickly look away, feeling my throat tighten up at the sight of it as the radio in the corner plays through harsh static.
I've been home for almost an hour now. Waiting here in my room, watching the rain slow down and the sun come out as the shower hisses down the hall with adorable hums slipping through the creaks of the bathroom door.
When I finally got us into the car after forcing myself off of her, Maya asked me to take her home so she could wash the rain out of her hair and get comfortable. But I didn't want her to be alone with her thoughts. So I persuaded her to stay with me; offering her a clean pair of clothes, and telling her to take a shower in mine while I took one upstairs in my dad's room.
She gave in immediately without much convincing to my surprise, and now that we're here, I can't help but think about how good this feels. Staring at her clothes, listening to her hum in a better mood than before, while I wait for her to walk through the door and climb into bed next to me.
I've always avoided getting close, experiencing something some may call domestic. It's terrified me ever since I could remember. But now that I have it, now that I see her every day and get disappointed on the days I don't, I can't stop myself from worrying about the day it'll all come to an end. The day she'll look me in the eyes and wish she never met me—When she'll question every single day we've spent together.
The truth is, caring about Maya Bennet isn't an act. It's all real. The way I feel about her is real, the way I care about her is real, feeling the need to protect her; and it may be confusing, but it's all definitely real.
Unfortunately, I doubt she'll ever believe me one day. Because while it is far from fake, it's also been built on lies.
"Who's the lucky girl?" Zayn's voice knocks me out of my thoughts as I glance up and see him leaning against the doorway, cocking his head back toward the bathroom. "Or is it a lucky guy this time?" His brow arches until he glances down and sees Maya's dress lying on the floor. "What's her name? Or did you forget already?"
I sit up further on the bed and fold my arms over my chest as I look him up and down. "Where were you?" I ask and his finger nudges his nose as he walks inside and wanders toward the corner of my bedroom, trailing his fingertips along the image on the newspaper.
