september 5th, 1951
dear louis,
you've probably heard, through the news, by now that Natalie killed herself the night i left her. i can't help but feel responsible; can't help but feel like it was me who caused her to think she was so worthless she had to do that. i know now Robert was sleeping with countless other women and threatened her on a daily basis.
i wish i had done something while i could. but, as usual, i let the coward in me take place and everything i said or did was marred with the selfishness of stupid polariod photos that mean nothing to me now. i dropped them in the pacific ocean. screw the photos, screw Time magazine, and screw Zayn Malik for getting it all wrong.
i loved her.
and maybe she was out of my game. in fact, she probably was. because she was all camera flashes and expensive champagne and i liked to think she could be mine. how fickle that was. i was just her photographer; just the man who saw her as she was. with no makeup, no clothing. no men threatening her or beating her if she said one thing wrong.
but, gosh, was she absolutely breathtaking. she was stunning, and she knew it. she has become a legend in the back of my mind, and nothing more.
nothing less.
sincerely,
zayn malik.
YOU ARE READING
legend ☾ z.m.
Fanfictionshe was all flashes of cameras and bright city lights; he was just a simple photographer that was in awe of her. in which a photographer falls in love with his muse. © purelyhxrry book 2 ; paradox series ~ lowercase intended ~ c o m p l e t e d
