Deep Desires (Zayn Malik)

12

I DONT KNOW IF YOU GUYS KNOW THIS BUT TRISH IS PLAYED BY BIRDY ONE OF THE COOLEST BRITISH SINGERS LIKE EVER, BECAUSE SHE IS SO YOUNG AND HAS THE MOST BEAUTIFUL VOICE. THE CHARACTERS I HAVE CHOSEN WILL BE PUT AT THE END OF THE CHAPTER.

"If your homesick, give me your hand and I'll hold it." Zayn whisper sings to me while we lay in the back of his truck, the part in the back where there isn't a roof, now that I think about it I have no idea what these things are called.

"I know you are Trish," he holds my hand in his as we look at the stars, his arm envoloping me in a warm hug and his lips against my forehead, besides the fact the wind is slightly cooling for it being the ending of spring helps with the humid night. "This truck is our new home." he says and I let out a little chuckle, his hand tucks my hair away from my face and I smile against his chest, happy to have someone to make me feel good in the mix of the night, I think it is around midnight at the moment. The past hours of the day have gone on and on as we were on the highway making it across America.

"Tell me something you miss, I know you are homesick but the best way to get over something is to talk about it." I shake my head at him. "What were your brother's like?"

I take a moment for myself, not saying anything in the uncomfortable silence I had sprung apong the two of us. I don't know how, but somehow I had lost it after Zayn made that left turn. Something inside me made me feel as if I had nothing of myself, as if I had lost everything even if I was gaining some sort of excellence. I guess I realized that other than Zayn I have nothing going for myself, no career plan no plan for the future, like where am I supposed to live when we make it to our destination?

I don't know why I am so worried, Zayn has said many times that I think too much about the future and not enough about the present, maybe it was passed down through the family or it is in our genes to act this way, or something along those lines.

"Marcus and Beau, there's too much to say about them that I can simply say out loud." I say. "They both had lighter complections, dark hair and alluring blue eyes, both inherited looks from my mother, but me on the other hand didn't even look related to them. I take after my father, who has the same hair color as I do and I get my darker of eyes from him. I wish I had a picture that I could show you, but I don't.

"Beau used to joke around that we didn't have the same mother, which infurated her since well that would've meant that my she cheated on my father, but it was rather funny the way she reacted. After she'd yell at Beau for having such a crude humor we would all laugh and drink fresh tea and lemon squares while watching this dance show we all adore.

"But don't let that fool you, that rarely so happened, usually once a month did we all laugh as a family." I clear my throat and close my eyes, making an image in my head as the words form and fall out my mouth as a waterfall cascading below. "Usually I would be either reading on my balcony, on the phone with Barbara or writing about a life I would never be able to live.

"And what kind of life was this? You know, that you were writing about?" Zayn asks swiftly.

"A little house on an even smaller lot, with a tiny garden that a mother and her daughter would plant flowers and await there eruption in the spring." I smile at the thought. "A father who would go to work everyday to help his family, come home and help his children with homework and admire his wife as if she was a Di Vinci painting from centuries ago.

"A family that could never be seperated no matter what the cause, a family that was true and pure, that love not because of the bind they have in their blood but because they truly admire the other person."

"Wow Trish." Zayn speaks and holds his breath for a minute or so. "My dream life was me by myself doing whatever it is I wanted, I guess we're more different than we thought, huh?" he smiles above me and I think about what he had just said.