Our Cheeky, Movie Star Romance (Zouis Talik)

Chapter 14

It had been a week since Louis had attempted calling him, so Zayn was a bit shocked when his phone went off that Thursday night while he was folding a very red hoodie of his.

He picked up the device from where it was laying next to his thigh on the dark wooden floorboards. He was about to just let it ring, but then he realized that, bittersweetly, it wasn't Louis. A shock of hope twinged with sadness withered away like a dying flower and was replaced with angry relief. His thumb slid slowly across the screen, answering the call while he slipped the hoodie that was in his other hand neatly into his suitcase.

"Hello?" He leaned back against his bedroom wall, glancing at all the piles of clothes and shoes and other belongings of his that were scattered all around the room, needing to be packed up and brought to his flat, which waited patiently for him in London. He didn't enjoy packing too much, but it had to be done.

A familiar, deep voice greeted him. "Hey Zayn. What's up?"

Zayn stretched out his legs, pressing his calves to the cold floor and exhaling as the muscles loosened. He let out a long breath. "Nothing. Packing. What have you been up to, Harry Styles?"

 "Packing, huh? Finally moving?" Harry asked, and Zayn put the phone on speaker before replying, setting the device gently on the floor, the plastic case clacking against the wood.

"Yeah, I am." He began to fold a pair of jeans while Harry talked.

"And when are you doing that?"

"Moving? Um, Saturday, probably ."

"Okay, um, I have a favor to ask of you."

Curious, Zayn furrowed his eyebrows and stopped folding, instead repositioning himself to where he was lying on his stomach, propped up on his elbows.

"And what might that be?" he asked, finally, fiddling with the zipper of his suitcase.

"Well, um, here's the thing... This record producer saw some videos that I posted on YouTube, ones of me singing, right? Well, she contacted me, and wanted me to come in and record some demos. Said she's really excited. But, the place is in London, and I thought that since you are going anyways, we could ride together? Ya wanna do that?"

Zayn sat up, the feeling of his elbows pressing against the floor becoming uncomfortable. "Wow, Harry, that's great... Yeah, of course, that would be cool. Would you want me to pick you up? You live in Holmes Chapel, right?"

"Yeah. It would make the drive a bit longer, but I'll pay for the extra petrol..."

Zayn pulled his knees up to his chest. "You don't have to do that, but yeah, just text me your address..."

It was good to talk to Harry again. It seemed to wash away the deep feelings of lonliness that he'd been trudging through for the past week.

It was nice, even if he had to pretend that the thought of Louis wasn't still floating through the back of his mind.

-+-

It was a heartfelt goodbye. After all, Zayn had lived there, in the same house, his whole life, and now he was going to leave to make new memories, with new people. It was all very surreal.

Of course, his mother had gotten teary-eyed as she gripped her son to her, her baby boy, holding her arms tightly around him as if that would make him able to stay, never to escape. Zayn let her hug him for as long as she needed to, because he understood that it wasn't all that easy for her. Moving out always seemed to be harder on parents, because while the child was going off to do something more, something exciting, the most exciting thing in the parent's life was leaving them. So Zayn stood still and let his mother fuss, telling her not to cry, or he would start, too.