Addicted z.m

Chapter 13

Zayn's POV

I kept my head down and fixed my hood to cover my face as I made my way through the busy streets of Rome. When I finally made it to the phone booth I groaned in annoyance at the fact that there was a line.

I patiently waited in it, though. I made sure my face wasn't too visible to people who waited along with me. It felt like forever waiting in the line though it was only 15 minutes. Luckily these people didn't have too much to say.

When it was finally my turn, I stepped into the booth and it was like I could breathe again. I closed the sliding door, hurriedly shoved the coins in the phone, and punched in the number I had learned to remember by heart.

It rang...rang for too long. I squeezed the phone tighter with anxiety after every ring.

"H-Hello?" Her voice was shaky. I knew why she took so long to answer. She knew it would be me.

"Spencer?" I answered. I let my hood fall so I could hear her voice clearly.

"Zayn..." She whispered. "No, it's okay. I'll be fine. See you tomorrow." She replied to a voice in the background. "Are you going to hang up on me again?"

"No...not this time..." I promised.

"Where are you?" She dared to ask.

I sighed. "Spencer, you know I can't tell you that."

"No. I don't, Zayn." Her voice filled with annoyance. "You can't or you won't?"

I clenched my teeth and rested my head against the glass of the booth. "Spencer, please don't-"

"No Zayn!" She snapped. "Don't tell me to not be like this! 'Cause you haven't really given me a reason not to be like this."

"I know, I shouldn't have even had the nerve to call you."

"Then why did you call?"

"Because I didn't want you to think I didn't care anymore." I explained. "I've waited too long. I know within that time you've probably come up with every reason in the world to hate me. I'm okay with that. If you don't want me to call again, I won't. I just don't want you to believe that I never wanted to, because that couldn't be further from the truth."

She stayed silent and every second that passed made me anxious. "Spencer, please..." I begged. It was so quiet, all I could hear was the rain outside hitting the booth, the sound growing in volume.

I heard her sigh. "Are you coming back?...ever?"

I held my breath, contemplating what how to answer as best as I could. "I don't know," was all I could think to say.

"Zayn-"

"Spencer...don't..."

I heard a sniffle and I clenched my uninjured hand.

"Please don't do that." I begged.

"Dammit Zayn! I miss you! I miss you so fucking much." She sobbed.

"I know. Please...please don't hate me."

I heard her breaths try to even. "Zayn I can't do this..."

"No. Nonono. Don't say that. Please, say anything but that."

"I'm sorry, I just...I'm tired of being confused and feeling helpless and being upset and frustrated."

"I know, and you don't deserve this, but-"

"If I don't deserve this then why do you keep pulling me in?" She asked the one question I never wanted to hear asked outside of my own mind.

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block out my tears, but that just made them stream down all together. I didn't want to believe I was hearing this. I wanted to open my eyes and be standing in the same room as her, holding her, kissing her, loving her.