Disguise♔ z.m

Forty Nine

The air slightly becomes constricted in my lungs as I see a woman of glowing olive skin and glossy, dark locks approach Zayn and wrap arms around him as their lips connect into a personal smooch. It’s not meant for me to get jealous because he is not mine and I am not his but there is a foreign feeling forming in my heart, dimming every sense of mine with envy.

      I cannot bring myself to look at them; I cannot know if he kisses her back, or if he puts his hands around her waist just the way Liam would do for me.

     Was she the ‘Rosa’ Zayn asked about?

     Was she the reason he was hesitating to come here?

     How do they even know each other?

My mind is springing with all sorts of questions as their lengthy kiss ends and she bothers to start a conversation in a language I cannot understand. I gently excuse myself, though it was likely neither heard me; not like they were interested in someone else’s presence. Zayn did not even come after me, which hurt me more as I come closer and closer to the ladies’ room.

     I immediately get in and rest my back on the turquoise tiled wall, hand over chest, mind trying to stop itself from clouding. I do not know how I will ever get over being jealous. It’s not something I can stop or slow down. Elle was someone I could barely handle. Though there was a striking resemblance between them both, Rosa had jade eyes with plumper form of lips, which only signaled competition.

     It’s alright; Zayn is free to be with anyone as far as I am concerned. He never tried to come in between Liam and I, so why should I be involved in something that does not concern me? He doesn’t love me, so that only shows how much I should not care. On the other hand, I love him. I love Liam too, but my feelings towards Zayn are totally different. How could I ever extinguish what I have for him?

“Nora, are you there?” hard knocks on the door collide with a worried voice.

My voice cracks. “Yes, I will be right out.” A low whimper escapes my mouth, too.

“Is everything alright?”

“Yes,” I lie. “Go on, I will be right out.”

“Okay,” unsurely Zayn answers and the footsteps are directed away from my location.

    I take in profound shots of air, stopping my eyes from watering. I was already a mess, a hot mess that did not need any sort of disturbance but as days prolonged, trouble only became my friend.

I clear myself up, spattering little water onto my face and drying it up before rushing back to the distant table with a huge grin and unsettled heart. I was not going to let myself seem weak.

“Nora,” I put my hand out for her to shake.

She says something in Italian but Zayn clears his throat and gives her the look. “Oh, I am so sorry. My name is Rosaline, but you can call me Rosa,” her accent is thick, no way could you mistake her for another nationality, but her grammar was perfect from my perspective.

I take my seat across them both, close to Aeneas, who pours wine into our wine glasses, giving me a warm smile, settling the bottle on the table and cupping his palm around my shoulder closest to him.

I return the smile though I did not understand anything going on as Rosa spoke enthusiastically, several times putting her hand over Zayn’s lap. They are in some sort of bubble that makes everything in me twist with reasons why I can never have that. I feel worthless and incomplete. Jealousy is no good for me.

     Aeneas, Rosa and Zayn are in complete joy as the food came and went, glasses finished and re-filled. I was almost coming  to the point of leaving and finding my way back to the hotel (not like I knew where it was) but Zayn finally asked me his typical question which was “Are you alright?”, and I had to answer him my typical answer, which was “I am fine.”