Unconventional // z.m.

vi. In Which He Try, Try, Tries Again

If he ever smiled at me like that I would pASs OuT

Zayn is desperate. He is hard, harder than ever, but most of all he needs to see Diamond. He doesn't know why, but he's sure that's all he needs. Just to see her, to know she's alright. He feels sick thinking of all the people she might have been with in the two weeks since they were together. He wonders if she feels sick, too; if any of them made her feel special. He can do that. He wants to do that.

"Pandora Pink's, how may I—"

"Diamond," he breathes, and the woman falls silent as she always does when he says this. "Please."

Quiet. Then: "Look, you can't keep calling like this when I already told you—"

"She doesn't sleep with clients twice, I know," he groans, pushing his hands through his hair over and over again. "I'll pay her double. Triple, even."

A heavy sigh. "Look, sir—"

"Please," he begs, his voice soaked with pure desperation. He doesn't care. He is desperate and he wants her to know it. "I'll pay triple. Can't you just talk to her or something? Please?"

Sophia sighs, having had about enough of this guy already. It's the third time he's called this week, and she's tired of droning on and on about the same thing over and over again. If this will get him to finally stop trying and leave him alone, she'll definitely try it, because she's one more call away from blocking his number. "Fine, I'll talk to her," she relents. "But if she says no, you'd better stop calling. Alright?"

Zayn hesitates chewing on his lip. What if she said no? How would he get ahold of her again if he could no longer call? "Fine."

A tinny, robotic voice tells him he is now on hold and he puts the phone on speaker, sinking down onto his couch with his head in his hands. He hasn't felt this way since Perrie upped and walked out of his life. Those following few months were absolute hell, a mess of frantic phone calls and pathetic voicemails and creepy stalking and unsolicited visits and getting his number blocked more times than he could count. He doesn't want this to be like that. He doesn't want Diamond to be another Perrie.

Startled, Zayn suddenly does a double take. Perrie. He hasn't once thought about her over the past few days - close to a week, even; his mind has been a jumble of desperation, lust, weed, and Diamond. Sure, most of those aren't exactly ideal alternatives, but anything is better than moping over his ex of five years. Anything is better than laying awake at night wondering what it would be like if she hadn't left, if they'd gotten married as planned. Would they have a kid by now? Would Perrie still love him? Would they have—

"Hello? Zayn?"

Zayn practically leaps off the couch to get to the phone, hitting his ribs on the side of the table and severely knocking his knee on the ground, but he doesn't let it phase him. In a split second the phone is in his hand and he's sitting on his carpet, a warm feeling he can't quite figure out spreading across his chest. "Diamond," he breathes, he finally breathes. Her voice is like the air he needs.

A beat of silence. "Zayn..."

Zayn doesn't like that tone. It's the tone people use when they're about to completely tear you apart and are trying to do it in the nicest way possible. "Y-yeah?"

"You can't keep calling my work like this, Zayn," Diamond says, and Zayn feels like something inside of him just popped.

"I know, I know," he says, but of course he doesn't know. Who really knows when they say that? He doesn't want to stop calling. He doesn't want their first to be their last. Those short minutes were like the sunrise to his gloomy life, and he'd be damned if morning never came again. "Please, Diamond, I just need to..."

"Sleep with me?"

"No!"

"So what, Zayn? What do you want?"

He grips his hair, barely registering the pain. "I... I-I don't know," he stammers. "I don't know."

Another sigh. "Do me a favour, Zayn?"

If Zayn was a dog, he's sure his ears would have physically perked up. "Yeah?"

"Don't call again."

"No, wait!"

"It's three in the morning!"

"Just... I need to see you again," Zayn begs.

A pause. A very, very l o n g pause.

"See... me?"

"Yes."

"You just want to... see me," Diamond repeats, and Zayn is saddened by the way she seems so lost. Obviously, anybody who's ever taken an interest in her wants to do a lot more than just see her, and Zayn believes that is a grave mistake on their part. Just laying eyes on Diamond is a blessing.

"I need to see you," Zayn emphasises.

Diamond takes a breath, feeling as if her lungs might burst. "Okay."

Zayn bites down on his lip to stop the smile that threatens to break free. "Okay?"

"Yes, okay," Diamond exhales. "I'll be over in forty."

Hazel eyes glance at the clock on the wall. 3:14 AM. "I can pick you up," he offers.

"So you can stalk me at my address, too?" Diamond half-teases and Zayn blushes. "No thanks, I'll come there. See you."

There's a click and the line goes dead.

Traffic outside is loud and the television is a little too bright in the dark, but none of it matters. Nothing matters to him except:

I'm going to see Diamond again.