Those Eyes... (Zerrie Fanfic)

Chapter 18

Chapter 18:

"Take care baba! Oh and don't forget to bring home a batch of strawberry if you can!" my mum's high pitched voice shrilled through the warm sunny Saturday as I got inside Zayn's black Bentley continental vehicle. British weather pleasantly surprised me with it's bipolar change of mind today. 

"Bye mum!" I shouted back, putting my seat belt on at the same time, drifting away from her. My mum's face had shown a bemused look when I told her I was going with Zayn for a special 'educational' trip and truth be told I did feel a great deal of guilt by lying to her but I didn't know any other sane solution.

It was finally the day I had been craving for, the day where I could have the entire day roaming around with Zayn, like a proper couple. My heart was tingling with a quiver of thrilling anticipation. I observed Zayn, he had on a deep blue t-shirt with light grey jeans, looking his dashing self like always. I wondered what he thought of my casual white top and black jeans because he was born and brought up in a wealthy family, what if his expectations were higher? This brought back an important question call to mind.

"Zayn?"

"Hmm..."

"Why are you an English teacher?" I asked. I knew he was passionate about teaching and enjoyed it too but it wasn't completely clear why. I felt there was more to it than he made it out to be.

"I love English that's why."

"I know that but you are filthy rich so why...?" It was an inappropriate question and I felt super shy asking him.

 "So you don't think I have the right to be a teacher?" he asked, appearing amused.

"No... Just curious..."

"I don't want to live off my parents money. I'd rather be independent and make my own living out of my own accord. I have the expensive car, house, clothes but only because of my mum's pressure. She doesn't want her son to live in what she thinks is poverty."

"Your mum thinks people who don't have that lifestyle are poor?" 

"Well she thinks it's embarrassing..." he said nervously. 

"Oh."

Zayn and his mum vastly differed each other, Zayn was a complete different person unalike his mum, he valued a person not by their title but their personality and I couldn't help but thank the universe for creating this opposite mindset of a mother and her son. I couldn't picture Zayn be so narrow minded and judgmental, that would make him a stranger in my eyes. 

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Zayn parked in front of a large divine cottage, it's pale brown body was strangled with thin chains of ivy illuminating the entire two storey cottage beautifully. Bertha was perched next to a Victorian white garden table, her eyes lighting up and her hands motioning inwards, beckoning us to join her.

"Zayn Perrie!" Bertha stood up and embraced both of us at the same time with a warm, gentle hug. 

"Zayn, show her the strawberry patches and Perrie, make sure you take a basket home." 

"My mum's already made an order."

"Well in that case, take as many as you want." she said.

Zayn guided me to to the back, through the back door into a place manicured with neat rows of green shrubs, flecks of red glistening under them, hinting the full grown strawberries sitting unattended. 

"Here. Follow me." Zayn said handing me a basket, going to the furthest row at the end and kneeled down. I copied him, making sure I was not touching the plants, to avoid any sort of damage. We began picking strawberries, my hands were covered in red juice at once.