Zayn's POV
Hurt. It hurts, everything hurts.
I crawl to the bed an prop myself up. I slowly limp-walk over to my wardrobe. Crabbing the cold metal handle of my suitcase that I had prepared for months now, just now getting the balls to leave. Hobbling into the kitchen, I make a short note to my now ex.
Dear Wren,
I've decided to leave. In done with this.. Us. Find someone after you sober up and take your mess again. I know you can.
With Love,
-Zayn
Slipping off my promise ring, I gingerly placed it on the faux marble counter. Opening my secret box, I take out £3000. I grab my phone, laptop, chargers, and tablet before stumbling out of our..his apartment. Then, I just walked. I walked and walked. I stop once I reach an old bus stop. I go in and get slapped in the face by the stench of sweat and booze. Walking over the counter, I ask for a one-way ticket to Cheshire. Maybe I could crash with Lou until I'm on my feet again? I blindly hand the lady £18.
She rolls her eyes and thrusts the ticket into my hands. "Thanks." She grunts. I walk over the bench an plop on it, accidentally knocking into a curly haired bloke. Mumbling a quick sorry, I get a lopsided, dimpled smile. "It's fine," he draws out with a thick Cheshire accent. I send him a half smile and take out my sketch pad. "Your drawing are lovely." I look up and see him not-so discreetly looking over my shoulder. I replied with a soft thank you. "You don't talk much do you?" Shaking my head no as a reply he let out a breathy laugh. "Don't worry I'll make you talk," he muttered under his breath with a slight grin.
