When Worlds Combine - A WWC Sequel

45; Deleted texts, bookstores, and panic attacks

Violet

 

Everything reminds me of you.

 

My finger hovers over the backspace button as I stare at my phone, eventually deleting the words I had just typed out. That would make it about the twentieth text I wanted to send to Zayn, but deleted before I could.

I scroll through our old messages, my stomach churning at the things we used to say to one another. Even now, his texts still make me smile. It's heartbreaking to know he never really meant what he said.

It was true though, everything did remind me of him. I was in the middle of Rio and everything around me reminded me of him. Things people said, things I saw, I could make it all somehow, in some way, link to Zayn. That sucked. That really fucking sucked. Because I was desperately trying to evacuate someone from my mind who had permanent residency.

I move to the gallery on my phone, scrolling through all my pictures. I really shouldn't be doing this, this is the one thing you should not do after a break up. Yet, it's the one thing you always do. You just like to make yourself feel as worse as you possibly can.

I didn't realise just how many pictures Zayn and I took together. I guess that was my influence. Zayn hated pictures, but he said with me it was different. He wouldn't mind posing for pictures when I asked. A lot of the time I wasn't even in them. I just wanted to capture Zayn. And looking back through them now, they're all such ridiculous photos. But they all pinpointed a moment within our time together. Us on our first day of college, us sightseeing in London, us with his family, us doing fucking everything. Our smiles matched, our eyes bright.

I keep scrolling, just making myself feel as upset as I possibly can. And then I get to the albums of videos, and I click into it. Because why the fuck not. I've started, might as well keep going on my VIP path to misery.

The first video was taken about five months ago, and I can't quite recognise where we are. But it's not London. Zayn's standing in front of a sunset, his movement paused. I hesitantly push play.

Zayn moves around the screen, doing some sort of elaborate dance and screaming some sort of lyrics. I remember this day actually, it was the day we road tripped to a small town just outside of London. I wish I could remember the name of it now. But we weren't meant to stop where we did, we were driving home when Zayn pulled over because he wanted to admire the sunset.

I hear myself giggling from behind the camera as Zayn moves about and then he stops, noticing the phone in my hand.

"No!" He cries, rushing towards me and trying to steal the phone away from my hands. What follows next is very shaky camera movements as Zayn and I battle to keep the phone. You hear us both yelling at each other, and my laughter filling the air.

Zayn manages to steal the camera and I can't see anything but the grass on the ground. Being the dumbass he is, he probably thought he had turned it off.

"It's pretty huh?" I hear him say.

"It's beautiful."

 

"Not as beautiful as you."

 

"That is so cheesy."

 

"Fuck, it actually was. I'm so sorry. I take it back."

 

"Oh!"

 

"I'm joking! You know what's cool?"