"Please," Zayn begs. "Just... let me kiss you."
Diamond gives him that look - the one she always gives him. The one that makes him feel like a small child being denied ice cream. "Sorry, but you know it's against my policy."
She doesn't sound sorry...
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It's been two weeks.
Two weeks of radio silence. Two weeks of staring at his phone waiting for it to ring, or at his door waiting for a knock. Two weeks of wondering whether it would be legal to hire somebody to find Diamond's number. Two weeks of sleepless nights and restless days, wondering where she was, what she was doing, who she was doing. Two weeks of feeling lost and wondering what he did wrong. And Zayn is sick of it. He's sick of Diamond's constant games, the relentless back and forth. He's patient and willing to wait, but at the end of the day he's a human being and doesn't appreciate being played with - intentionally or not.
He sighs for the umpteenth time that day as he closes his front door and locks it. The air inside his apartment is practically suffocating now, thick with his own doubts and wonderings. He needs to get out. If Diamond comes and I'm not in, then at least she'll know what it feels like, he decides with a huff, even though the thought of her coming to see him while he's out makes him want to dart right back inside.
"Fùck this," Zayn mutters, pushing open the doors to the lobby. The cold December air slaps him right in the face and he wonders whether it's worth it too leave his flat at all. Wondering is all he's been doing lately. Diamond's birthday is this month, he remembers. It's already practically mid-December, what if he's missed it?
He groans.
Get out. Get out of my head.
There's a park somewhere nearby. He doesn't remember the way, but he doesn't care as he decides to turn left and guess his route. It's not like he can't look up the way home on his phone. Gingerly, he pulls his gloves on and shoves his hands deep into his coat, nose and mouth firmly buried in his scarf as he trudges along. At this rate, there'll be snow - not the cool snow, but the pathetic, thin layer that turns to black ice. Zayn makes a mental note to buy a month or two's groceries the next day so he doesn't have to leave the house anymore.
Half an hour passes and Zayn knows he either missed the park nearest to his house, or turned the wrong way when he left the lobby. Even so he keeps walking, knowing that anything is better than sitting at home alone with his own thoughts. Although Zayn hates winter, he has to admit that it's the best season to distract yourself from your problems; all you have to do is go for a walk and your brain us immediately too fixated on the cold to think about very much at all.
Exhibit A: Zayn is no longer thinking about Diamond because he's worried his toes might fall off.
Later rather than sooner, a park finally comes into view. It's not big, just enough for a small playground, a grassy space and a pond, but Zayn doesn't care much as he stations himself on a bench facing the water. A few lone ducks float on the surface, standing against the darkness of the water and the naked trees. Zayn thinks about how great it would be to draw this. Then he thinks about how cold his fingers would get and thinks better of it.
