Neon Red [Order The eBook] [Zayn]

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(DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. It's important to remember this is all totally fabricated, embellished, and exaggerated for entertainment purposes.)

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They call her love, love, love, love, love

They call her love, love, love, love, love

She is love...She is all I need

She is love...She is all I need

She is love...And she is all I need

Parachute | She Is Love

And like that our stolen time in paradise was over. It ended on a good note, however, with me lazily making love to him the entire day, trying to take his mind off things and convince him I was ok at least. There wasn't much I could do for him in terms of Robin's new prognosis, but at the very least I could remove myself from his worry-equation and begin catering to him like he had catered to me. That night and the following morning I'd cooked for him for the first time in a while. Roasted chicken and all the vegetables in the pantry for dinner, and a proper English breakfast for in the morning. I'd also run him a bath before we left and afterwards gave him a full body massage, which naturally led to my hands and mouth seeking out unspeakable places.

I drove the first half of the way back to London, and to hear him snoring in the passenger seat was a comfort, no matter how loud he became. The drive was surprisingly therapeutic too, and although I couldn't shut my mind off, it was nice to cruise around in this window of contentment with him. Unconvinced that all of our problems would go away, but satisfied with knowing we'd be tackling them together, come what may. Now that was some hardcore maturation. The kind that had escaped me for the past few weeks when I'd been regressing back into my childhood sulks and self-destructive tendencies. When it was all said and done, we parted at my place. He reluctantly dropped me off to the missus before heading home and planning a drive to his parents' place in Cherise. No rest for the wicked, I suppose.

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November 2014

United States

Our bodies produced hundreds of millions of cells every minute. Over 300 billion per day, yet somehow, I only felt drained in interview after interview. Like I was losing microscopic bits of myself since I started out in 2010. Lately those bits were becoming humiliating chunks; leaving gaping holes in the fabric of who I once was. Things hadn't exactly been smooth around the album launch. Despite coming to terms with the label's rejection and pushing ahead for Haz's sake, trying to be the bigger man over the cowards who owned us, I still couldn't bring myself to fake enthusiasm for our latest project. Not in all the interviews leading up to November 17th, a few of which I'd skipped out on, and especially not on the morning of the release. I'd woken up with a pit in my heart, knowing that if I toed the company line today of all days and put on a fake façade to promote a project I didn't believe in, I would never forgive myself. Time to take a stand. I categorically refused to show up in Orlando, Florida leaving them to scramble and make excuses for me on the Today Show. Checkmate, bitch.