Leave {z.m.}

Seven

(Adelaide) Addie's P.O.V.

"You arrived home safely?" My mother was always worrying about me constantly. 

She called me at least three times a week to make sure I was alright. Most college students would hate it if their moms did that, but I had a very close relationship with my mom. I told her almost everything...almost.

I didn't know why I "forgot" to tell her about Zayn. It seemed like she would disapprove; what mother would want their only child to be staying at a boy's apartment alone when she is in an entirely different country and her daughter knows the boy just about as much as she does? This nagged in my mind ever since I began to stay with Zayn.

"Addie?" 

"Oh, um, yeah. I'm home," I responded briskly.

"How was the flight back? It was pretty long, right?" 

"Yep, seven hours." 

"Oh, wow. That sounds awful," she reckoned.

"It was okay. Peaceful." 

"Really? No annoying, smelly people?" 

I laughed and my mom laughed along. I missed her already. "Well, of course there's going to be those. They're everywhere. There just wasn't as many as usual."

"That's good to hear. What time is it there?" 

"Umm..." 

I glanced up towards Zayn; I knew he was listening to my conversation. The volume was up loud on my cellphone. 

"Six-twenty," he mouthed to me. 

I repeated the time to my mom and mouthed back a "Thank you" to Zayn.

"You must be exhausted. You woke up at around five." 

"I am a little tired," I yawned. 

"Maybe you should rest. Do you have school tomorrow?" 

I smiled, "No, mom. Tomorrow is Saturday." 

"Oh, right. Sorry," she laughed at herself.

"I have to go. I should probably sleep now that you reminded me of how tired I am."

 "Alright, Addie. I'll talk to you soon. I love you." 

"Love you too." I waited for her to hang up since I didn't like hanging up on anyone.

"I should leave you to sleep," Zayn spoke softly. 

"Nah, it's okay. I'm not that tired." I yawned again and Zayn didn't appear to be convinced. 

"We can talk tomorrow," he told me. 

I sighed; I hoped I wasn't picking up on his irksome behavior of sighing at every moment possible. "Okay, then."

I moved on towards "my" room and Zayn followed me with my bags, setting them neatly in the corner of the room. 

"Are you ever tired?" 

"No, not really," he admitted.

"But you still sleep?" 

I took a blanket, a pillow and a comforter from one of my suitcases. I wondered if I would come back here and I knew that he didn't have furniture, blankets or anything, so I made sure that I bought a comforter in America.

I already had a pillow and a blanket with me. Normally, it would've seemed a little creepy to buy a comforter in the hopes of staying at someone's house again, but I'd needed a new comforter anyway...at least that's what I had told myself continually.

"I do not need sleep, but I prefer to sleep. I can get away."

I completely understood him, although I needed sleep to survive. When I was a younger, quite miserable, more insecure person, I used to sleep as much as I possibly could. I didn't have many friends and I wasn't focused on the internet very often because I'd gotten bullied on there.

I just read stories and novels and spent a lot of time with my parents. Sleeping was an escape for me just as he described it was for him. I could be whoever I wanted to be, and I wasn't so alarmed and afraid of everything. Now, of course, I was a different, improved person.

I felt more comfortable with who I was, inside and out, although that took a lot of practice and discipline. I was more confident and though I was still shy sometimes, I could still share my opinions with others without being nervous about what they would think of me. I just had a lot of self-love now, and I was happy.

"I know what you mean," I replied, hoping I hadn't been spacing out for very long. 

"May I ask something that may seem a bit bizarre?" 

Well, I hadn't been expecting those words. "Yeah?" 

Zayn cleared his throat.

"Would you want to go shopping with me tomorrow morning?" 

Whoa. This dude knows what shopping is? Crazy. 

"Sure, what time were you planning on going?" 

"Whenever is good for you." 

Hmm, he actually sounds respectful. Maybe he's sick or something.

"Okay, I guess we'll see when I wake up. Thanks for letting me stay here again." 

Zayn just shrugged as if it didn't mean anything to him and he disappeared in a single second. I set up what would have to suffice as a bed and laid down carefully. Once my head touched my pillow, every ounce of me became worn out and I fell asleep in less than five minutes, which was pretty amazing these days.

Part of me woke up at some random, early time in the morning and I heard someone talking. I was way too out of it to actually get up, so I remained in the same spot, just listening as closely as possible. 

"The curse. It will get to her. I cannot let it. I can't." 

Zayn's words were the same over and over again. Was he going insane or had he been insane the whole time?

I struggled to get back to sleep, and luckily, I did. My mind focused on Zayn though as I dreamt. I thought of my time in America as I spoke with my childhood neighbor, Beth, who had gone to college at Johns Hopkins University in Baltimore, Maryland. We had been close friends before I moved to the UK, and we decided to meet up a few times as I visited back home.

I talked to her about Zayn and I confronted my feelings, something he never did. Basically, he was really freaking hot. His looks were literally perfect and I'd never automatically thought that about a guy before. From the second I saw him standing in his doorway, leaning against the door frame, I knew that he was probably born a model, but he never pursued that career path.

His attitude, on the other hand, left much to be desired, but I thought he had it in him to be a better person. He'd just been in hiding for so long that he didn't even know how to react in normal situations. If he wasn't such a mysterious smart-ass, he could've passed as an awkward, yet kindhearted artist/musician.

I metaphorically shook those distracting thoughts away and thought about sleeping instead. I needed my rest for whatever adventure we were going on tomorrow. Who knew how he'd act.

Exasperatingly antisocial or miraculously conversational.