Zayn Malik's Long Lost Sister (Unedited)

30. The Locket

I remember watching 'P.S I Love You' and crying whenever the main character lady received a letter from her dead husband. He had planned out this whole ordeal with letters and trips to foreign land, all while he was dying of a brain tumor. But it was lovely and sweet and very very emotional.

Liam had let my tears stain the shoulder of his shirt in my pathetic state of teenage girl emotions, but I had fallen asleep when- towards the ending- the woman's mother who had despised her daughters relationship with the Irish lover, had the last letter. She had a beautiful hand in all of this 'last wish death plans'.

She had told her daughter, "If we are all alone, then we are all together in that too."

It's a 'you have to see the movie to understand' kind of thing.

But waking up because of voices speaking in a accent I'm barely yet accustomed to was a bit confusing for a moment.

Zayn?

"...picture?" My brother exasperatedly sighs. I could almost see the annoyed way he'd pinch the bride of his nose while shutting his eyes.

"It meant no harm. She stayed over and we watched emotional movies." Liam says.

"She's an emotionally wrecked teenage girl, Liam." Zayn almost shouts. "Why make her cry when that's all she seems to be doing lately?"

"If it makes you feel better, we watched 'Magic Mike' first."

"That doesn't make me feel any better. A stripper movie? Really, Liam?"

"Zayn, she enjoyed it. Channing Tatum appeals to girls in a range from 14-100. Relax, we only watched movies."

"Why didn't she answer her phone? Return my texts? Why didn't you?" Zayn was pressing for answers.

"Well, mine was dead and I guess she didn't want to be on her phone. Well, she called some guy-"

"Okay. 1) your phone was not dead, Twitter proved it. 2) what guy?"

"Edward."

I sat up from the comfortable mess nest of blankets on the couch and decided to wake up and face the on-slaughter that is bound to come at me from running away last night. I silently padded over to the kitchen where they stood talking and raked my fingers up through my hair to detain the tangled mess.

"I didn't sleep last night, and if you answered your phone instead of being on Twitter, I would've been fine." Zayn continued talking, not yet seeing me. "I would've been totally fine with her being here with you, I trust you, but-"

"You wouldn't have been fine. You would've dragged her out of here against her will and you know it." Liam scoffed, rolling his eyes playfully towards where I was standing. "Hey."

"Morning." I mumbled. I turned my focus on my brother. "Hey."

"Hey." Zayn answers, his eyes trailing over my borrowed clothes.

"Hey." I sighed awkwardly, looking around the kitchen to avoid meeting his gaze.

"You're right," Zayn turns to Liam. "I would have."

"I knew it." Liam chuckled. "Marley, would you like some breakfast?"

"No, we should go." Zayn answers.

No strict interrogation? No yelling or scolding me?

"I'll just get my things." I say quietly. A hushed conversation was had as soon as I turned my back. I walked into the living room and gathered my folded up clothes, but just to kill some time I began folding the blankets we had used last night. It didn't take long. I walked back into the kitchen with my shoes on and clothes in hand.