misfits // z.m

ch. 9 || visions

Authors note.

Hey! I know there are maybe two of you who comment on these chapters whenever I update, but I'd love it if /more/ of you would, please!

I'm fully aware that this story was supposed to be set in the autumn months, but I'm a lousy writer so we'll just have to pretend.

Love, Charlie.

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IX. visions

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I wanted nothing more than to wake up to his voice every morning.

The sweet, raspy tones were mellifluent with every lilt and curve of his voice, easing me from my sleep this morning. He sang slowly, perhaps lacking the energy to sing at the song's regular pace.

"A soft sound

To the way that she wears her hair down

Covering up her face.

Oh what a let down,

And I don't seem to be having any effect now

Falling all over the place."

I remembered stirring slightly in my sleep, the weight of his body against mine, the warmth of his skin, the apple and old spice smell he radiated even in his waking hours, it was all registering in my mind as he sang me a morning lullaby.

"But you're losing your words

We're speaking in bodies

Avoiding me and talking 'bout you.

You're losing your turn

I guess I'll never learn

Cause I stay another hour or two."

As the vague recognition of my surroundings washed over my brain, I could hear more clearly his rough morning voice, which half-whispered the words of my favourite song; Settle Down.

"For crying out loud, settle down,

You know I can't be found with you

We get back to my house

Your hands, my mouth

Now I just stop myself around you."

My eyes were wide open now, and I turned to face him.

Still, he sang, and his warm hand slid over my back and tugged me closer towards him.

Undeniably, I was happy to be here.

Shivers burst through my body, reaching every nerve ending as he sang, not quite hitting the right notes as his tired voice grew louder.

I smiled and tangled my fingers in his smooth hair, ringing my fingers around the slight curls at the back of his head.

He kissed my forehead, "Good morning."

"You've got a lovely voice, Zayn. How did you know it was my favourite song?" I asked him softly, smiling, despite myself.

"That one day...when I first went to your house. You were singing it quietly when I came out of the bathroom." He grinned. "It's strange, it's been almost two weeks."

I gave him a lazy smile, "Who's counting?"

Zayn rolled his eyes but caught me by surprise by rolling me over so I was on top of him, having nowhere else to look but his eyes. "Every moment with you counts. We have a few months, is it enough?"

And then, of its own accord, my smile went. It dragged my good mood with me as flashes of my last relationship forced its way into my mind.

FLASHBACK

I could see myself, younger then, lighter hair and healthier skin. I'd lost that vibrancy.

I told him I didn't want to be with him anymore because, as much as I loved him, I wasn't ready to marry him.

I was 19, for God's sake! He was twenty two and proposing.

He promised me the stars, the world, but he never promised me the truth about his addictions.

Kneeling down, he held the ring out in its velvet casing, his eyes glimmering like the stars in his empty promises.

"I can't marry you, Smith. I'm 19. I don't even know if this is...true love. God, do you? What are we even doing? I'm sorry, I can't...can't marry you."

"But what do I have to live for but you?" Smith held onto my hand with such frightening affection I felt his touch, woven of the darkest strings, burn underneath my skin.

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"...Zayn, I know you're a nice guy. I'm sure we have something. But love?" I snorted. "I wouldn't know love if it slapped me in the face."

Zayn frowned. "Fine." He allowed me to get off him before standing up.

"Come back when you find it."