тнe ocean leттerѕ || zerrie

Letter #9

Dear Perrie,

The lump welded to my throat bobs more when I'm racked in gloomy thoughts. Though it could be the aspirin that's scratched down my throat an hour ago, I refuse to place blame on anything else but the recent trauma. Luke and I have been roaming around the outskirts of the glazed white park; he departs small talk from between his teeth while I trail my sight on the path of a descending snowflake as it flutters into a glob of packed down slush and a child's shoe molds it into the cast. No longer witnessing the overtake of a water crystal, I avert my attention back to whatever Luke's letting slip from his lips-probably about his flopping love life. I see this self-sufficiency as aid to my situation, for in the bits of resonation that I detect as his voice, he explains the horridly embarrassing things he's unintentionally done in front of his muse. An example splits out of his lips, and I puff out a chuckle through my nose.

"See? It's much easier to laugh at my pain than it is to let you drown in yours," Luke says, his winter coat sleeve wisps the fabric of mine when he nudges me.

"It's not all pain, seems like you've made him laugh," I start, but he deadpans me.

"At me, Zayn."

"Regardless," I begin again, with a slight snicker as an undertone. "From what I've gathered from observing him, and what you've stated, he's not the type of guy who would find your pain amusing and of reason to demote your worth to him."

Luke's laugh clouds the scenery around him in a heated breath outlined with soft bitterness and doubt. He permits the fog to blind his route before answering.

"I'm just the clumsy boy with the lip ring to him."

"Meaning he finds you awkwardly cute, but oddly hot at the same time," I interject.

His hands loom in the space next to his head as defense. "Whoa there, Zayn. Didn't your mother ever tell you it's rude to throw so many adverbs at someone in one sentence?"

"I think she ignored that talk," I imitate ponder with a hand pieced on my chin. "Not that I didn't enjoy her version of The Talk."

"Nobody in my family really knew how to explain the birds and bees to me since I told them I liked guys," confessed Luke, his lips glossed over a grin. "It's really not a hard concept to grasp anyways."

I mirror his curved lips. "Tell me how you fell for the lucky guy."

The command wrinkled Luke's eyebrows and seamless smile; his expression matched amongst confusion, surprise, and a ripple of contention. A speech seal busted in me around the time I befriended the blonde haired boy. I finally spluttered out rusted statements that I've always wanted to voice-a decade late in some circumstances. It's just around you; I stitch up my emotions and poke them back with the needle whenever I actually desire to speak to you. But back to my request,-dubbed ridiculous to most-I projected interest thoroughly now... Maybe to compare two destinies-them and us.

"Story for story?" Luke offered.

"Deal."

He drew out his exhale. "Well..."

His irises floated behind his top eyelid; hence, mere slits of electric blue waded visible. Only for a moment they stayed. The next, his blue eyes sunk back down, and his story sprawled.

"Three years ago, I was in the pit for the musical that was put on. I honestly can't remember what musical it was to save my life, but I remember him being in it. He was a main role as a newcomer, and everyone loved him for that, including me. That's when I knew of him, but I didn't meet him until the very end of the year when we were on the ropes course field trip. He and I along with a few other kids were already all strapped for climbing. That's when our teacher asked us to demo for everyone else.. I almost got stuck with climbing in front of seventy kids, but he saw how nervous I was and we switched roles. He said as long as I don't drop him if he falls, he'd be fine. The demo went well and his dry jokes and bright attitude while climbing increased everyone's interest in him. Downside to that was my chance of getting to know him was down to the size of a ventricle. But when everybody grouped up and did their own thing, we were stuck in a group together."

His beam glazed back onto his lips, as well as a rose garden on his pale cheeks. "He complimented my strength and thanked me for not dropping him. The whole day, while climbing, or just queuing for a different telephone pole/rope walk, he had his arm around me, and acted like he knew me all his life. He even convinced me to do the zip-line, which gave me a heart attack, but I can still hear the cheers and everything. Mostly from him! It was the best day."

"What happened?" I questioned after. Luke's interaction with him strained, and twisted static in the span of two summers.

"Two different social circles, my friend. He's the virtuoso music bloke, and I'm the science geek. Left and right brained. Different as day and night."

"Like Perrie and I?" I hinted, a prick of his rosy cheeks fused mine the same color.

"Exactly," the word lifelessly dripped down his jaw when the numbness of your name echoed in the air.

Silence was taut around us after that, and I realize what silly patterns our discussions fall into-an attack on the ears, to a healing of nothingness. My distraction receded, and I'm webbed in thoughts of you again. An image of you flashed in direct view of my eyes, but Niall was bound to your grip.

Then I crimped to my own reality, it really was you and Niall, aimlessly stringing an adventurer's path through the heart of the park. Past young ones on rusted swings and paint chipped monkey bars that mark small hands with blisters, he tore a path through to catch up to your scuttling self. His arms finally pounced and hooked around your waist; they seeped into a tighter clasp and reeled you into his awaiting pucker. I craned my neck down, and fidgeted the burning in my throat by swallowing over and over. Luke caught the scene too, for his hand lathered across my back. I concentrated on the shriek of the two coarse fabrics on our jacket's wipe together.

The print of Luke's hand bathed in warmth. Winter's bite purloined the shaped heat; I uneasily took it as sign that you two were no longer kissing. The scorch draining my esophagus of comfort remained even if it should've tumbled to total submission. The subtlety didn't pick at me too much at least. We stood idle, to ream in as much of your budding chemistry as we could.

Luke noted your intimate body entwinement; I was tangled with the dull color settling in your eyes. The sharpness of your pigment seemed to be less and less intense when your gazes were fixated. Stroked colorless, the grey articulated pain or yearn for something else. You tore away and searched the environment for some garish nature. The tingle in my throat surged to my feet, and I jolted into walking again.

It's so stupid to assume you weren't happy and bleeding colors with Niall. I know nothing about your feelings toward him. I understand they could be a blooming euphoria that cannot diminish, the nirvana of your existence, everything...

I just wish you felt them towards me instead of him.

To envision the rest of me and Luke's walk, I'll just say the silhouettes of the one sided encounter hovered over my catacomb-meaning everything is dead and frightening-heart.We conversed about useless (Luke insists they're important) topics like what kind of cake Luke should get for his wedding and if there was some euphemism in foot size.

What a bunch of weirdos.

Always Yours,

Zayn Malik

A/N: AWWWWWW YEAH HARDCORE UPDATE THAT HASN'T BEEN THOROUGHLY. THIS IS REALLY BAD I APOLOGIZE PLEASE DONT HATE ME (/.\)