Addicted z.m

Chapter 26

We didn't talk much - more than we had before, but still, not much. She didn't completely ignore my existence. She just simply avoided it. And when she couldn't, she smiled. . .slightly.

For the past week I haven't been able to get the image of waking up next to her on the beach out of my head. She was wide awake and staring up at me, her hand beating out the surprisingly steady rhythm of my heart on my chest. The million grains of sand in her hair were unmissable. She had a red imprint on her cheek from the ripples in my shirt. I couldn't decide if her eyes were more green or blue with the ocean and sunrise behind her.

I'd had dreams of that single moment the past eight nights. The sight of her, the smell of her and the ocean combining into one beautiful perfume, the sound of the waves and her voice harmonising. It all taunted me - torturing me with a single blink of my eyes.

"Wow." A hand on my shoulder tugged me out of my daydream. I dropped the pencil in my hand and jumped at the voice. "I haven't seen you at the drawing board in a while."

I forced a laugh that came out more as a choked sigh.

"What are you working on?" Perrie's hand reached around me and snatched the picture before I could process what was happening. I watched her eyes scan the page. The realisation of who it was clicked and her eyes saddened. "You're dreaming of her again. . ."

"No," I stood from my seat and held her arms. "No, I just- Spencer was going through a tough time last week and I was just. . . inspired."

"Zayn," she sighed, her breath shaking. "Do. . . Do you have fe-"

"No, baby, no," I insisted. "The only thing I feel for her now is a mere responsibility."

"'Responsibility'? What kind of 'responsibility'?"

"You know," I shurgged. "A shoulder to cry on. Keeping her out of trouble."

"That's not your job," she demanded sternly. "It's for her future boyfriend, or whoever she decides to sleep around with next. Not you."

I fought the urge to defend Spencer against Perrie's allegations, but I'd just dig myself a deeper grave. "It's not just the job of a boyfriend. A friend does the same exact thing."

"Exactly. I'm her friend." She jabbed me in the chest with her finger. "You're her ex-lover. Ex-lovers are supposed to cut all ties. Not . . . this." She waved the drawing in the air for emphasis.

I clenched my jaw, taking slow breaths. "You know she went through some of the worst battles with me."

"I understand that, babe," she softened her eyes and stroked my arm. "But I went through a tough time with you, too - helping you get over her. I- We didn't go through that for nothing."

"Spencer and I will always feel responsible for each other," I declared. "If that's going to be a problem-"

"No," she panicked. "No, not a 'problem'. Just an. . . inconvenience."

I scoffed, rolling my eyes.

"Look, Zayn, you have to understand," she argued. "I can't get that image of the two of you on that bed-" she pointed to the bedroom, "-out of my head."

"What are you talking about?" I squinted in confusion.

"That day after you broke up with me. You guys were half naked, and soaked, and. . . happy."

The memory hit me like a brick wall. The yogurt fight that led to a shower fight which led to the bed before Perrie interrupted.

I sighed - whether out of pleasure from the memory or defeat, I couldn't tell. "Pez, you have nothing to worry about."