Escapade » z.m

41. I Can't Read One Paragraph Without Squinting

"It really aches now." Zayn grimaces, the lilt in his voice masking a tinge of humour. He rubs his back. "Didn't hurt so much initially." He says, pouting his lips, pressing on the small of his back.

"How bad is it?" Every asks, dabbing just above Zayn's hand. Her eyes are red rimmed still, and her nose is still runny from the meltdown she had had earlier, but she looks more herself now, with a zestful gleam in her eyes, and the concern laced voice.

Zayn flinches away from her touch, hiding a wince. He shoulders his bag again, and shakes his head dismissively. "I'll manage." He chokes out, beckoning Every to move.

Every hides her smile. "You should start wearing your glasses more often." She comments, looking ahead.

"Damn, I broke them this morning!" He exclaims breathlessly. Every widens her eyes, barely stifling a laugh, questioning about his tragedy. "I don't really know what happened to be fair," He continues, "I think I slept on them. Crushed them, I guess. I forgot to keep them on the table."

A chuckle escapes her, but she quickly stops herself. "Sorry, but it's kinda funny."

Zayn laughs with her, finding a sudden humour in his situation. "It is, though." He says at last.

"What's funnier is that I'm practically blind now." He says suddenly, making Every chuckle again.

"Really?"

He shrugs nonchalantly, not knowing how he's suddenly unscathed by the severity of his broken spectacles "Yeah," He groans. "Reading without my specks is like prairies without wheat."

"What?" Every shoots him a confused look.

"It can't happen." He explains, like that is the most obvious thing.

"Why do you need glasses, by the way? Since childhood?" She quirks her eyebrows. "Or have you always been buried in books?"

Zayn scoffs, "None of that, please. You and Gemma both are misunderstood about my nerdiness or whatever you like to call it."

"Then what is it?"

"I used to read at night, with the most wrong light to help me see the words." He chuckles. "And sometimes I used to read with my phone, so you can tell how careful I've been about this."

"You really are a nerd." She comments, laughing when she catches Zayn roll his eyes. "Buy new ones soon." Every says after a while. "You need them, obviously."

"I wish I could." He blurts out, and wishes to sew the words in when he sees Every's puzzled face. He tries to make up for it, not let her catch on his broken fettle, but Every is calculating it fast. Searching his face, like always.

"You don't have money?" She asks gently. Zayn licks his lips, running his hand up and down the strap of his bag. He tries not to say anything, but Every is looking at him with expectant eyes, bloodshot and demanding. He caves in.

"Um, yeah." He answers feebly.

Her eyebrows furrow and they stop walking. "I don't understand." She says it like she wants to, and Zayn isn't sure he would like her to understand any part of it. He's sure of the assurance she'd give him. He can imagine how lovely that would be. He might just feel better, less guilty. He might just forgive himself, but he knows what he's like.

That's what he's always looking for, a way to defend himself, so that the weight of his actions start to seem a little less.

"I haven't got a job yet." He says at last, wary of his words. Every's frown deepens, and he looks away, walking again. She stares after him for a while, but falls into step eventually.