another love || z.m.

Payton

SO LIKE I WAS SO CLOSE TO HAVING IT DONE BUT THEN.
weyhey_harry FOLLOWED ME. SHE FOLLOWED ME. MY FAVORITE AUTHOR OF ALL TIME FOLLOWED ME. IF YOU DO NOT KNOW HER, CHECK OUT HER BOOK, Psychotic RIGHT NOW. IT IS PERFECTION. OKAY, ANYWAYS.
Please read Author's Note at the end!

"Payton?"

I looked up from my sister's grave to see a dark silhouette inching toward me. I backed away slowly, not recognizing the voice.

"Pay," it called. Okay, it was definitely someone close to me. But Mum and Kaleb were at home. I had just spoken to them about going to see Elizabeth.

"Zayn?" I stepped forward. His immense quiff came into view, assuring me that this was my best friend standing before me.

"Payton," he said, relieved.

I nodded and started walking toward him. "What are you doing here?" I asked.

"Seeing my dad," he mumbled, throwing his thumb over his shoulder, pointing out where his dad lay. "What about you?"

I pointed to the tombstone I had just stepped over. "Elizabeth, my sister," I whispered.

"How'd it happen?" He asked.

"Car crash," I said. "Your dad?"

"9/11," he answered. I opened my mouth to ask what he was doing in southern Kentucky, but he answered my thoughts. "Mum wanted a fresh start," he shrugged. I nodded in understanding.

We stood there, awkwardly facing each other, not speaking.

"I thought you had to go home?" He phrased it as a question.

I shrugged. "I stopped by to say hello and then I drove straight here," I shrugged again. "Had to talk to her."

He nodded. "I heard."

I looked up from my feet to see him smirking. My jaw dropped immediately and I stammered to question him.

"H-how much did you... What did you hear?" I shuddered.

"I heard something about butterflies and the best voice," he smirked, but I gasped. Not because of what he heard, but because what was in between these parts. The part about how broken he is, and the part where I said I'm trying to fix him.

I looked into his eyes, my sight fluttering from one to the other, searching for signs of sadness, but he was just plain old happy. I shrugged and blushed. He pulled me into a hug and kissed my hair.

"Wanna know something?" He mumbled against my hair. I nodded best I could against his chest. "You give me butterflies, too," he said. I pulled my head out of his chest and looked at him.

"Really?" I asked, astonished at his previous confession.

"Yep," he nodded.

I couldn't muster a response so I just kissed his chest and hugged him tighter. His arms rested on my waist, chin on the top of my head.

"Let's get you home?" he asked, pulling away from me. I nodded and he took my hand. He walked me through the parking lot, but I stopped him.

"I drove," I said and pointed to my car behind us. He nodded once and I pulled him toward my car. I drove him home before pulling into my own driveway.

I lugged my tired body out of the car, into the house, and upstairs into my bedroom. I didn't bother taking my clothes off before plopping my body down on my bed. I stuffed my face into the pillow and let out a loud, muffled groan.

Why? Because I give Zayn butterflies. Because Zayn gives me butterflies. Because I kissed Zayn. Because Zayn kissed me. Because I like to spend time with Zayn. Because Zayn likes to spend time with me. Because I like Zayn. And maybe, just maybe, Zayn likes me, too.