Is This Really Love? (One Direction, Zayn Malik FanFiction)

Chapter 4

April's P.O.V:

I walked to the receptionist desk to get all the papers before I would start after summer. I had two months to set everything out and then I had to start taking classes. "Okay, now I'll ask some questions for your student record. So, your classes are from monday to friday from 10 am to 2pm and then you can leave after your last class. Where are you staying love?" We continued like that for around ten minutes, she explained the rules, how things worked, etc. So that when I first enter this building I wouldn't be totally lost. 

"That's all for today! Well see you around!" She finished, she seemed nice so I smiled back "Yeah I guess... Thank you!" I waved and got out of there. 

My next thing was getting a summer job. At least until I start classes, then I could get an internship in an art gallery or something. I could go and get my flat keys at three where I would meet the real estate agent whom I contacted since my arrival. It was ten AM by now so I had spare time to kill. I quickly texted my mom and dad letting them know that I had arrived well and that I already got my schedule, even though classes didn't start for two more months.

I had to walk to my new building and leave my luggage, I was definitely not going to carry them with me. I've been in London plenty of times before, so I could figure my way aroudn it. As usual, huge crowds of people mobbed me every where I go. Full of turists and chinese. Damn you chineses.

Luckily the flat was in St. Johns, a much calmer and relaxed area. As I walked I was doing  mental list of things I had to do today as usual. I couldn't stop and write it in my journal as I usually did, my hands were full. Unpack, go grocery shopping, connect the thelephone, connect wifi and tv.. the list went on and on...

I could say I walked for a good ten minutes before the crowd started thinning. As I walked by I watched the buildings surrounding me, the victorian old houses colouring the whole street. The sound of the leaves being blown by the wind behind my back made me shiver, bringing a sly smile to my face. 

Soon enough, in the middle of the street stood an odd black building. Sticking out from all the other classical building because of it's colour. That's right. That black, modern building is indeed mine. My new home.

I entered the reception of the flat and saw a man behind a counter. I extended my hand for him to shake and said "Hi, how are you. I'm April Burnham, the owner of this building?" I asked unsure. The man smiled and nodded. 

"Ah, yes! I've been informed you would be arriving today. Let me introduce myself, I'm Cooper, Martin Cooper. I'm your door man. It's very nice to meet you." He said shaking my hand enthusiasticly. I already liked Cooper. 

He quickly noticed my bags and hurried to take them from my hands. A sigh of relief escaped without consent. I was so tired. "Hey, sorry I was wondering if I could leave my bags here because the real estate lady is meeting me here at three to give me my keys and do some paperwork and till then, I need a pace to leave them" He smiled crookedly and nodded. "I'll leave them up there right away" He pointed at the ceiling. 

Good so I had some good two hours before I had to meet the lady. I might as well grab my Kindle, my cigarettes and my ipod and head off to that lovely park I'd seen before. I put all of my things including my phone and money into my purse-like bag and headed off, waving at Cooper on my way out, without glancing up from my Kindle. 

As my body hit the chilly air outsie I also kind of hit someone. "FUCK!" I yelped rather loudly. Without looking up, I continue to pick up my Kindle carefully, silently hoping the screen didn't crack. "FUCK!" I yelled this time. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck" When I picked it up the whole thing was cracked up. Splinters of glass all over the street, large pieces of glass on my hands and the screen all glitched, frozen on the page 97 of 'The Catcher in the Rye'

I quickly started picking everything up, the whole bag had spilled onto the street. With unexplainable panic I smacked the things and hurriedly dropped them inside the bag. I froze when I hear another voice right beside me. I had been so focused on my Kindle and bag that I forgot the fact that I actually bumped into someone. The first thing I percieved was the strong  bittersweet mix of cologne and honey. Then the thick low accent "Shit, I am so bloody sorry! I am such a wanker, I wasn't looking where I was going. I'm sorry"