Back in the flat, I crashed my phone on the floor and cried more and more. I locked my door and leaned on it. I sat on the floor, my knees bended, and reached for my phone. It was 7h30 pm. I figured the boys would be on stage… I couldn’t call Luke, neither Niall, neither Liam. I started to hum Gotta Be You as the tears were running down my face. I felt something against the other side of the door. It was probably one of the girls. I started to think about the first time I saw him.
I was wearing my yin-yang shirt. He stretched out his arm and showed me his tattoos. He pointed out his yin-yang.
- Look, we have the same. He said
- Wow! I love tattoos! This is so beautiful. I said, tracing my fingertips on his forearm.
- Do you have any? He said, looking into my eyes.
- Yeah, I actually have three.
- Show me? He said curiously
Then, I thought about the first time we kissed. His soft lips on mine, his warm blow on my face every time he tried to catch his breath. His hands traveling my back, going up to my face and running back to my waist. His husky voice when he called me in the morning, his long goodbyes when he didn’t want me to hang up the phone. I thought about Mak, Mary and I watching the different videos of Kiss You performed live when Zayn always dedicated the song to «His beautiful».
I finished to hum the last chorus of the song when a voice behind the door joined me.
