Deep Desires (Zayn Malik)

18

A hangover.

The second worst feeling, right next to the feeling of heartbreak.

Which happen to be the two feelings I'm having at the same time, in the same day. The pounding of my head seems to be moving at the same rate as the beat of my heart, sounds weird I know, but the two together are so painful I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemie.

"You okay?" Amanda asks me the following morning, I probably look worst than her, even if her hair is matted and she isn't wearing pants.

"What time is it?" I groggly say, my vision is blurred as I rub my eyes, trying to magically rub the pain away.

"Two in the afternoon," I fall back on to my pillow. "Answer my question."

"It's too early." I know I'm dodging her question, but I have good reasoning for all my actions. "Where's Zayn?" I ask.

"No."

"No what?" I questions her.

"You don't deserve to know, not until you admit that you aren't okay." She picks and picks at me with her words, trying to get me to admit my feelings like an annoying school counselor.

"Then no deal." I roll on to my stomach and bury my face into the pillow.

"Fine." She says but I know she won't give up so easily, she will return in only a few minutes to push and push for my answer.

My few seconds by myself are mostly spent of memories of Zayn. We barely have any, but of the thought of spending almost a month with a complete utter stranger excites me for the fact we have known each other barely anytime but have completely fallen for one another.

Neither of us would ever admit to our complete feelings for another, and I don't think we ever will. For the most part we show affection through actions instead of words.

"What the hell are you feeling at the moment?" Amanda says earlier than expected, her voice ringing through my head before finally processing what she is asking me.

"I don't know! A lot of things!" I yell out of frustration, leaning my back against the couch and staring at Amanda, who has her arms crossed and is frowning down at me.

"That isn't answer the question!" She urges and I finally just spill everything out to her.

"I'm feeling like shit!" I shout. "No, I don't feel like shit, I am giving shit to every person that cares! I'm pissed at everyone, you for being annoying and a good friend, Zayn for being pissed at me and making me feel shithouse crazy. And lastly I'm pissed at myself for being, and this is Zayns words that I believe, 'I'm a form of a bitch.'" I puff air before continuing, knowing Amanda was about to say something.

"And I am a form of a bitch, a new form where I can care about someone's feelings more than my own at one moment and hate everybody the next and not care what they are feeling." I hold my breath to hold the tears and fight myself mentally.

"Um.."Amanda says and I follow her longing gaze, which is set on a paled face Zayn leaning against the wall, completely alluring but frustrating at the same time.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Zayn smirks, I stand to my feet to stick up for myself. I feel dizzy at first and know that I shouldn't say anything, instead I just turn towards the door and push Amanda out of my way, and grabbing Zayns keys as well as his pack of cigarettes.

I know that no one will run after me because they either don't care or know I need the space.

-

It took the longest time for me to initially start Zayns truck and even find the ignition before I drove a solid hour to the middle of no where, somewhere downtown Chicago, and I had found myself standing in front of a bookstore staring through the glass window and eyeing all the books.