Boo'd Up and other stories • Zarry

Ocean of Silence: i

With every incoming gush of wind, swarms of leaves cascade off the trees lining the streets. It's almost like snow, but better because leaves don't tend to inconvenience your entire existence. Their colours are mesmerizing and if you're lucky and get to step on a bunch of crunchy leaves, it only gets better.

Richmond looked like any other suburb on Halloween night. Jack-o-lanterns standing guard by the front doors, candles inside of them slowly alerting their appearance as the sky gets darker. Cheesy, sometimes even gaudy decorations peeking out from behind windows. Some kids already trick-or-treating, clumping together in groups with laughter chiming off around them as they compared the contents of their goody bags. And, of course, leaves everywhere.

A stone's throw away from London, just a few miles really, and life seemed still, content, a stark difference to the hustle and bustle of the metropolis nearby. Most of the houses lining the streets - terraced, Georgian, semi-detached - were occupied by families. Some old, living in the same house for decades upon decades, growing and changing with this place. But loads were young, only moving here a couple of years ago to extend their little families, to settle down and put down some roots.

There was a time when these very streets were Zayn's favourite place in the world. Normally, he'd park his car in the driveway of the detached Georgian house near the end of one of many nearly identical streets just like he does now, check his email on his work phone, reply to anything that couldn't wait till the next day and put the work cell on "Do Not Disturb" before going inside and letting all stress and tension dissipate into thin air.

That was before.

Now Zayn still sits in the driver's seat, not looking at his phone though but chewing at his lip, wracking his brain with what to say when the doorbell announces his presence. Should he act like everything's fine? Like nothing's going on at all? Like there isn't a weight on his chest so heavy he finds himself unable to breathe some days? Does he adopt the face of a polite stranger? Is it even possible with all that they've been through?

Zayn's pondering is interrupted when the front door opens and Harry peeks out from the inside. The pang near his heart Zayn feels next is most likely a yet undetected medical condition, he concludes. It's called into question right when two little girls try to look outside too, each one leaning over from behind Harry's legs, one light-brown, one dark-haired head with curious eyes peering at the car. That's not one but two reasons for Zayn to stop overthinking shit and get out of his car, plastering a smile on his face that's half-pretend and half-relief.

"Dad!" they both screech at the same time, running towards Zayn as fast as they can. He catches each one with an arm, squatting down and hugging them close to his chest.

"Hi, Erin. Hi, Sage," Zayn says between kissing each one of his daughters on the head. "I missed you so much, sweethearts. Are you ready to go trick-or-treating?"

"Yes!" Erin, the older one of the two yells. "But Daddy said I can't eat any of my candy until tomorrow after lunch."

Zayn chuckles, as Erin continues to pout. "Don't worry, we'll be sneaky and have some when we get back, yeah? Just a little so Daddy doesn't get mad and the tooth-fairy actually has some teeth to find later. You don't want them all to rot."

"Ewwww!" the girls draw out.

"Can we go to the movies tomorrow?" Sage asks, her big green eyes open, brimming with child-like honesty. "We can all go together. I want the big popcorn with the pictures on the bucket."

Zayn's chest deflates, sighing softly as he tries to come up with a lie to tell his child. Again. "Together" used to mean something vastly different at a time not that long ago. Now it resembles more another life rather than a former part of his current one.