Shattered

A Portrait of Zayn

Eleanor's PoV

I was sitting in the hospital cafe with Zayn, twiddling my fingers and staring blankly at the floor. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Zayn doing something along the same lines except he was staring at a half finished doodle on the back of a napkin, pencil in hand. He seemed to be having difficulty finishing the other half of the very sad looking puppy due to the fact that his hand was shaking so badly.
Looking up I gently took the pencil from his trembling fingers and placed it on the table. His gaze met mine and all of a sudden the picture of the dog seemed to be actually a portrait of Zayn. The chocolate brown eyes and the sad expression mirroring that of the doodled puppie's.
I placed my hands gently on his and offered up a small but what I hoped was a comforting smile. Zayn's lips twitched but never made it into a complete upwards curve.
"It'll be alright" I mumbled nervously. At this a small tear leaked out of the corner of his eye.
"How can you be sure?" He asked, voice shaking almost as violently as his hands had been a few minutes ago.
"Louis's a fighter, he'll pull through."
Zayn opened his mouth as if to speak, but closed it again as tears began to pour silently down his face. I squeezed his hand and stood, tugging his arm and pulling him up with me.
Zayn obediently followed me (once again bearing a distinct resemblance to a saddened puppy) until we reached the hospitals exit. There he stopped and looked back.
"But Lou..." he began...
"Is currently unconscious and will not notice our absence" I stated almost rudely.
Taken aback at this abrupt and rather crude comment Zayn hurriedly followed me out into the cold.
The air was noticeably fresher outside the hospital and I allowed my mind to wander away from the horrible truth that lay within its walls. As we had been walking quite briskly it was not long before we reached the familiar London flat I called home.
Unlocking the blue front door with a click of the matching key I ushered the still mystified Zayn inside and began bustling round the kitchen preparing hot chocolates for the pair of us.
"Drink" I said sternly as I plonked the mug on the coffee table in front of him. I watched him as raised the cup to his lips. Although I was hungry myself I waited for the recognisable slurp of liquid passing through lips before starting my own. I had not seen a single morsel pass Zayn's lips since Dr Jamison had announced Louis's fate.
"W-why are we here, surely we could have got hot chocolate at the cafe?" Zayn inquired.
"I want to talk to you, to make sure you're all right, ya know with everything that's going on."
"Well I..." "...I just don't know what to do with myself" he admitted after a long pause.
This seemingly simple sentence seemed to have clicked a jigsaw piece together in my mind. I knew what to do. How could I not have seen it before? It was so simple!
The solution to Zayn's newfound eating habits (or lack there of) and talking patterns ( he was even quieter than normal, so quiet in fact it could be deemed as silence) was through his heart.
And the only person that had complete access to Zayn's heart was Perrie.
"Zayn, I'm calling your girlfriend" I said casually over my shoulder as I made a beeline for my phone."
"Pick her up at the airport tomorrow, round 3."