Dear Baba,
I miss you, as always. I showed Mary around our home. She thinks it's gorgeous. She asked where I was going to sleep, and I told her I didn't sleep. I remember when I was able to sleep. That was when you were still here. I saw Mary's confusion. She just doesn't know about my past and the complexity that it holds. Then again, I'm still trying to understand it as well. I'm sat here in my room, in front of the fireplace. The album that you and the girls made is playing. I still can't decide which song is my favorite. The loud music and fire are reminding me of you. A particular memory whirling through my head was when we had our first kiss. Or was it second? Well, I remember us sitting in front of the fireplace. You were drinking tea whilst I was drawing you. You were quite happy with the drawing's outcome. I remember your eyes traveling from the paper, to my eyes, to my lips, then back at my eyes. Your orbs went from baby blue to a dark, navy blue. And damn was it gorgeous. I remember leaning in, and you staying there. Once our lips touched, it was magical. Cheesy, I know. But you made my lips hot, numb, tingly. I loved the way you made me feel. I really did. My room has become too small for me. I feel like the walls are closing in. The fire is making the room become warm, too warm. I have just taken my shirt off. My skinny jeans are still on, as well as the glasses that you loved on me. I don't really know why I wear it still, I don't even need glasses.
I've also let Mary stay in your old room. I thought you wouldn't mind. You've always been very welcoming, and I think you'd like her. I really don't know why I'm talking to Mary. I still love you. I don't know what I want from Mary. Do I want a relationship? That should be a no. I am still in love with you. But, there's something about her that won't let me leave. God, she's addicting. I feel horrible for admitting this to you. I don't love her. I love you. I love you. I love you. I won't stop loving you.
There was just a knock at my door. It's obviously Mary. I'll talk to you later.
Love,
Zayn Malik
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Midnight Coffee
FanfictionMary was your typical Catholic girl. The way she acted, the way she spoke, all the way down to how she loved. Her parents were strict, and Mary never complained. But, once Mary meets Zayn, a former member of One Direction, her prospective on life t...
