Wistfully yours (zm || au)

Chapter 6

Next morning, I wake up without disturbances made, tossing and turning in bed for about an hour. My mind wanders around the events from last evening, of how Zayn had made me feel. I pick my phone up, and check my inbox only to find a few texts from dad and Nick.

"THE SURPRISE IS ON YOUR WAY YAY!" A text from Nick says. I wonder what it could be. Flowers, books, concert tickets, for fuck's sake it could be anything. Not that I'm excited, but I'm curious. 

"Can't wait. ;)" I text him back after a few rounds of debating my thoughts about how to seem excited.

I place the phone back on the nightstand, running a hand through my brown hair. Something about today is not right. Its uneasy like never before. I can't quite figure out why. I put the possible reasons in consideration. Nick's surprise, Zayn, Zayn or Zayn, or new place? I end up figuring out that its because dad hasn't texted me since that day. He is basically my best friend, and I cannot imagine being without exchanging a few sarcastic remarks with him. 

I finally climb out of bed, stepping into the shower. Washing my long brown hair, i rock with a few songs in the shower (not an uncommon hobby). When i walk out of the bathroom, I'm slipping into my black and white striped top with blue denims. After getting dressed, I wander around the apartment trying to find something healthy to eat. On not finding anything, I decide to finally go grocery shopping. I still have an hour before college, and i can hopesfully keep up the balance between the two. 

Letting my damp hair down, i step out of the warm apartment into the corridor. I spot two people standing ahead in the way with the corner of my eyes. I lock the door and make my way to the lift. I hear a familiar accent when I pass the two people. They're talking quite louder than what's decent. I tilt my head in their direction to spot Zayn, his hair messed up and his jaw tensed. There is a girl who stands before him, quite a few inches shorter than me. Her hair looks like the most funky combination I've seen in real life, as they're blonde around the scalp and dark shade of pink as they go down just below her shoulder. A ping of jealousy is evident of my face, i'm somehow aware. She's decently curvy and her hands are placed aggressively on her lifted-up hips. I look at Zayn, and our eyes lock before he turns away probably ignoring my interruption. 

I feel my cheeks turning red with embarrassment, so i decide to walk over to the lift. To my fortune, it doesn't take long before I'm inside. I wonder who she was, and why they were stood in the middle of the corridor, exchanging words with that volume of amplifier.

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Grocery goes smoothly, so does college. Lauren and I eat together, as she offers. Zayn is nowhere to be seen in sight when we're asked for the assignment. But fortunately, the dead line is tomorrow. I end up leaving for home early although Lauren wants to show me around her dorm room and her room mate (obviously). 

Once I'm home, i chew on the healthy (but yummy) pasta i had brought on my way home. Watching a classic romance, i finish off the meal. I feel so disgusted today. I feel like Dad doesn't care about how I'm doing anymore. He hasn't replied to my last text, or even called. I check my phone again to confirm if my nervousness is obvious. But it is, as there are left only a few texts from Nick and his 'big surprise'. 

I lay back along the length of the couch, and in no time I'm asleep. The next thing i know is that i wake up to the sound of my door being banged and my phone literally shooting up. 23 missed calls, i doubt. 

"Zayn" the name reads, and i shake my head. How does this contact exist on my phone? You never know with punk-annoying-ass guys with tattoos and classy cars. 

I groan and step down on the floor, lazily walking towards the door. The irritating banging annoys me beyond limitations.

"What?" I pull the door open, my face twisted with annoyance.

"Do you know what time it is?" His face is stern, something very surprising. He's always smirking but today his face looks tensed. I turn around to land my eyes on the clock which strikes past 5. I bite my lip, oh well.

"Sorry." I sheepishly apologize, before stepping aside to let him in. I stand there waiting for him, but he doesn't take a single step.

"What?" I spat at him.

"My place." He plainly says before turning away, "you don't have to change." I somehow know that he's smirking now.

I take my phone along, while i step outside closing the door behind me. Zayn rests his back against his door as i walk over to him. We both step inside and it takes a little time for me to adjust my eyes to the colour of the walls in his apartment. They're pale grey. Not that they aren't beautiful, but they aren't common.

"Woah." The word slips out before i realize it.

"You like grey?" He smirks at me, and i feel my stomach flip. I simply nod, and make my way to the carbon black leather couch. I settle down within no time, and expect him to sit across from me.

The next minute, Zayn is settled next to me on the small-spaced couch, making me feel very uneasy. We spread out the work from yesterday on the table, revising what all we've finished off. Zayn Malik seems to be taking the lead today, telling me things that I'm already very aware of.

"So, we've done the plots", he explains and i nod, "And we still have to do the dialogues and the combination." He indicates to the papers spread out on the table.

"Plus, the typing." I add, and his eyes land on mine, locking for more than a few seconds, making me feel the butterflies along my existence. His gaze travels along my eyes, my lips, my neck, my hands.

"You're too smart for an ordinary girl." He looks away, and i spot the corner of his lips curving. This is the first time I've seen his face go red, which makes me way more uneasy than i already was. The compliment makes me shy like i've never been before.

We start off by discussing dialogues ending up arguing, similar to what happened yesterday. 

"Dialogues are meant to be sarcastic." He defends himself, and i roll my eyes.

"Dialogues are meant to be imprinted on the minds who read them, because of the emotion they hold." I defend my point as well, and earn a deep chuckle from him.

"No, they are meant to be enjoyed and not quoted on social networks." He explains his point, impressing me. He is right, but just because he annoyed me, i'm not going to accept anything that his intelligence might offer. 

I look away, resting my chin on my knuckles. He shifts next to me, and leans into me, making me shiver. His lips are only inches away from my ear like they've been on the first day we met. My mind plays the flashbacks, and i close my eyes trying to form another thought. 

"You know I'm right." He whispers in my ear, his hot breath lingering over my skin, making my body tremble.