Addicted z.m

Chapter 24

Zayn's POV

I don't know what it was that shoved the words out of my mouth with the smallest amount of force.

Maybe it was the way the blast of light from the fireworks made her eyes brighten and widen with excitement.

Or maybe it was the fascination that took over her features.

Or maybe I was just tired of holding it in for so long it just kind of slipped.

"You were right," she spoke. Her head rested on my shoulder as we lay out on the balcony of our new suite. "The view is beautiful."

We had slept all day after the long drive. We had stayed in Barcelona longer than planned. There was a festival going on and Spencer didn't want to miss it. We ended up leaving around one in the morning. She refused to sleep during the drive, talking my ear off the whole way; I didn't mind. She'd ask me random questions about nothing or just sit quietly staring out the window or at me.

She drifted off often but refused to actually sleep.

"You are incredibly stubborn, you know that?" I said to her after I had asked her to sleep and she declined.

She just smiled proudly, kissed my hand, and started up another conversation that branched into more for the rest of the drive.

"What is that?" I asked, gesturing to the necklace she had been fiddling with for the past couple days. I noticed everytime she was zoned out she would look down at it and twirl it between her fingers.

"What is what?" She looked up at me as if she had just remembered she was laying on me.

"This," I lifted the locket slightly. "I don't think I've seen you without it since we left."

She stared at it and went back into her deep in thought place. She had honestly forgotten to answer my question and I flipped the locket over on my fingers.

"May I?" I asked.

She nodded and I flicked it open. I didn't know what I was expecting, but I was thrown off by the picture. My lips parted slightly as I stared at every detail of the picture.

"Niall gave it to me," she informed, "before we left."

I stared at the picture a moment longer then sighed. I was envious, no denying that; but I wasn't the jealous boyfriend jealous. I envied the fact that he could make her that happy and I just continued to hurt her.

"Zayn," she whispered.

"Hmm?" I traded my gaze on the locket for her wondering eyes.

"Are you okay?" The question wasn't spoken the way it normally was. It went deeper than usual.

I kept my eyes on hers for a moment before opening my mouth to speak. But the words got hitched in my throat as her eyes darkened to a coffee brown, along with her hair that became thicker and blacker than mine. Everything about her just seemed to darken, even her skin until it was a smooth dark tan.

"Zayn," her accent changed and thickened to mold a Bradford one, "are you okay?"

"M-Marisole?" I whispered.

"Zayn?" she repeated.

"What?" I said as if I hadn't heard her.

"What?" she replied in the same tone.

And with just one blink, her dirty blonde hair, gray-blue eyes, and light skin were as they should be.

She sat up, perched on my lap, and looked at me with wide, frantic eyes. "Zayn, did you hear me?"