resolution♔ z.m

27%

I will never replace you.

           The voices in his head were constant, much like alarms and horns going on and off every minute, telling him he had to do something and not do anything at all. It was tearing him apart; being erratic. He stands by the coffee machine, hands shaking as he tries to set it up and understand how it works, but with massive amount of sighs rolling past his tongue, the cup slips from his trembling hands. He could have caught it if he wanted to, but he decides to watch it break slowly, to get satisfaction from the shatter, but it’s caught by two small and delicate hands.

           “There you go,” his eyes first land on her heart shaped lips, how they slightly part when she speaks and close when she inhales from her nose. Slowly, they dart to her cheeks, how flushed they looked, hollow curves, in line with her lips, slanting upwards to the start of her ears. Then, his sight swims to her eyes, thick lashes fluttering and gently touching her skin every time she blinks. She hands him the cup. She stares for a long while, looking up at him, few inches between them.

“Thanks.” He briefly mutters, awkwardly redrawing himself with the cup and getting back to figuring out how to work the machine. He stands there for good two minutes before giving up and cussing to himself. He hears Giselle stifle a laugh. “There’s nothing funny.”

“There is,” she places her fingers to her lips, watching him fuss. “Let me show you how to work this,” with a swift use of buttons, she places the cup underneath and then the liquid begins to drop, rubbing her hands against her denim before going back to a normal standing position and tilting her head.

He groans. He hasn’t spoken to her for the last two weeks as well, but she always tried coming on to him, and every single time she tried, he’d force her to leave. He didn’t want her in his space; he didn’t want her trying to talk to him in any way at all. Everything she did, annoyed him, pissed him off. The fact she was so up for everything made him want to claw out of his skin. He hated the way she got along with everybody and how she became the talk of the crew. SHE WAS ALWAYS THERE. Every time he had wanted to be with the boys, she’d be there playing fucking FIFA or COD, laughing along as though she’s been there forever.

“You can leave now.” He says under his breath, collecting the cup and walking quickly over to the tables with few chairs. It was their day off and they decided to come a day before their concert to Nashville.

“Zayn!” she follows him, taking two steps at a time to catch up with the brunette who did not want to wait for anybody. He cared about himself, and only himself, and a clueless girl with Portuguese as her mother tongue and few words like não me afasta didn’t stop him.

“What?” He sasses back. She sits across the table, trying to touch his hand, but he pulls it away and gives her a weird look, wondering what she was up to.

“Let me help you,” she says, more like pleads. Her eyes soften, her lips curl as she pushes her chair closer to his.

“I don’t need your help,” nonetheless the sting of hot coffee on his tongue, he takes a sip.

“You do, I can see it!”

“Well, I don’t need your help.” He bangs his fist on the wooden table, making the cup with the saucer beneath rattle before coming to a sharp stop, making some of the people around look his way.

“Listen to me, I can actually help you.” He stops looking from side to side and finally focuses on her.

“Okay, what is it?”

“I can be your rebound, help you move on, make you hap—“

 “Bullshit,” he strays away from the table, leaving Giselle and the cup of coffee. He finds his way through corridors, ending it by spotting the staircase and making a break for it. To his relief, the staircase is deserted, so he begins running down the stairs as though he has been just caught shop lifting. He’s half way down them when he realizes footsteps have been following him. He almost tumbles when he turns to see her behind him, but she catches with the back of his shirt and pushes him against the wall, heavily breathing against his parted lips.

“Stop running away from your problems.”

“You’ll never replace her,” the minute he said it, he must’ve regretted it because it was ultimately rude, but, it didn’t affect her. Rather, she smirks, fixing the collar to his shirt with her slender fingers.

“I am not replacing anyone.”