I'm just on the floor, I'm like a model. Been looking through the texts and all the photos.
Zendaya tossed the phone beside her, pulling the covers tight to her chest as she flipped to face the opposite wall. What did people do when they couldn't sleep? (or more like couldn't get a girl out of their heads no matter how hard they pushed the thoughts away)
Count sheep? ~how the fuck was that supposed to help?
Sucking in a deep breath, she gritted her teeth as she blew the air back out to where it belonged. Without realizing, Z's fingers curled around her phone as she rolled off the mattress altogether, hitting the carpeted floor with a thud. Giving up altogether on the hopeless pursuit of sleep, she scanned her thumbprint and her fingertips flew to the photos, in particular to an album labeled: Y/N.
Her lips bent up into bittersweet smiles with peels of laughter every few seconds escaping, no one to hear or join in except herself. But what if her finger slipped and dialed your number? Just an innocent accident, wouldn't hurt anybody (but it so fucking would.)
"No, I can handle this," Zendaya spoke clearly, almost too clearly like she needed to force herself into believing the words to be true. Her golden-brown eyes couldn't help but sneak a peek at one last picture, an action shot from the day with you that had started off so beautifully only to get smudged away with painful memories that left a bitter taste at the tip of her tongue.
Did you take him to the pier in Santa Monica, forget to bring a jacket wrap up in him cause you wanted to?
The wind blew your hair in all directions, untameable so you tossed your head back and let the strands fly across your shoulders. Zendaya hid her smiles from you, dropping her head to the trail of footprints you left in the sand, bare toes sinking in with every step despite the wind blowing and lowering the temperature. She could never feel cold next to you.
You stopped in your tracks, hands reaching out to cradle her face in your palms, little shudders uncontrollably shook your shoulders up and down. Zendaya flung her jacket over the top of you, pulling on the long, black sleeves to bring you in so close your forehead grazed over hers.
"Okay there, hun?" she whispered into your ear, pushing back a piece of your loose hair intertwined in her fingers.
"Mmm, now that you're here," you mumbled, lips pressed to the skin on her neck upturned in the beginnings of a smile. Your teeth still chattered a little bit so she ran her hands up and down your back until all you could feel was warm and complete. Pulling away, you took her hand in yours and dragged her forward, determined to keep walking as she rolled her eyes and sighed but followed after you. Z slipped her arm around your waist, her jacket strewn across your shoulders still, held in place by your fingers looped in the collar.
The beach was relatively clear and quiet, but she could make out a figure up in the distance and you seemed to be headed right towards them. As you got closer, you pulled out of Zendaya's grasp and ran to them; she squinted and chased after you, heart sinking in her chest when you jumped into his arms and she recognized your boyfriend. You shamelessly pulled him in for a kiss, Zendaya awkwardly standing behind you, feeling more than just forgotten.
"I'll catch up with you later, Z. Oh, don't forget your jacket!" you called out sweetly, removing her jacket and cautiously walking up to her and shoving it into her hands, always maintaining a certain level of space between you and her. That's how it always was whenever anyone else was around you two, especially your boyfriend. You shot her one last smile and turned around, leaving Zendaya crushed, like you just gave her a taste of what you could be like together and then snatched it away too fast.
Calling me up, so late at night, are we just friends? You say you wanted me, but you're sleeping with him.
Zendaya jerked at the sound of her phone ringing, breath catching in her throat when she saw your name appear, so casual but cruel at the same time. That didn't stop her from answering though, it never would.
"Heyyy Z! I miss you baby, c-couldn't stop thinking 'bout you, bet you're thinking about me too," you slurred, words seeping into her ears and she wished she could save them for later, knowing you'd go back and forth and might not think the same thoughts sober. But she didn't want to just throw herself down for you, only to have you keep coming back whenever you felt like it.
"Aren't you with him right now? And you know, with him in general too."
You paused from the other line, not used to her calling you out. It was something you both were aware of but never really talked about, him.
"Yeah, but... He's in the other room, and– I dunno, it's jus' different between us," you admitted, twirling a piece of hair around your finger, sprawled out on the floor, whispering into the phone in a hushed tone.
"The fuck, how is it different?" Zendaya snapped, hands clenching into fists in her lap. She hated when you made it sound like that, like you and her weren't real, like she was just your side experiment while you dated some guy.
"You know, just not real–" your voice cracked, knowing you didn't mean it the minute you said the words but she didn't know that.
"Just because we're both girls doesn't mean it's not fucking real."
Tears slipped from your eyes and stained the carpet underneath you, your chest tightened up and lungs contracted until you forced yourself to let out a shaky breath. Zendaya bit back her lip at the sound of you, clearly caring and sadder then you'd confess and put into words.
"Z, that's not what I meant..." you drawled out, the heels of your palms rubbing up and down your thighs, what you did whenever you had too much anxiety in the moment.
"Then what did it mean? Can you explain 'cause I think that you should," she pressed, sitting up and resting her head against the side of the mattress.
"You're so fucking perfect and -god- you put the stars in the sky and I can't breathe when I'm with you, but–"
"There's always a but," she cut you off, anticipating everything you had to say by now.
"But I don't think I'm gay," you blurted out, probably the worst excuse you could've thought of. You didn't want to tell her how scary it would be to accept yourself, how dating her would make it real and you didn't know if that was something you wanted to come to terms with.
"Bullshit," she spat, teeth grinding against each other in frustration.
"You can't just tell me what to be," you retaliated, cheeks flaring up in shades of red.
"And you can't just play with my feelings like this if you aren't going to do anything about it," Zendaya insisted, tears rolling down her cheeks too but she quickly wiped them away with her sleeve. You stayed silent on the other line, nothing you could say would make her feel any better.
I'm sorry, Z–" you began.
"Goodnight, Y/N. Don't call me again," she coldly spoke, ending the call before you could say anything else to try and get her to stay. Zendaya collapsed back to the floor, pulled off the covers from the bed and wrapped herself in them so she wouldn't feel so alone.
You held the phone in your hands, staring blankly at the blinking light from the ended call. You didn't want it to be this way or to end over a phone call; you didn't want it to end at all. Dizzy, you pushed yourself up to your feet and slipped on your shoes at the door, tripping out into the hall outside your apartment. Still drunk, you squinted down at the words on your phone and ordered an Uber; you had to fix this.
You think of me, I'm what you see when you look at the sky. I don't believe you, you ain't been loving me right.
Zendaya rolled over on the floor, a persistent knocking on her door forced her to stand to her feet and fling the door open. You dove right in, slamming the door shut with your back foot as you spun her around until her back hit the wall. She reacted immediately, grabbing fistfuls of your hair while you peppered the side of her neck in kisses, moving up to meet her lips. Z leaned into you, no more space between you and her, she could feel every one of your heartbeats against her chest. Breathless, you pulled away for a second, whispering against her lips:
"I'm serious."
