If Time Stands Still

56- effort

Aylin's POV

It's unfair. Within the past four hours, I've napped for a total of a half hour, whereas Zayn on the other hand has been asleep for three.

He wasn't kidding when he said he'd save his sleep for the plane ride, but I didn't expect him to be out cold for this long. I grab my phone and hold it out to look at him from my front camera. With his head rested on my shoulder and cheek pressed up against the neck pillow, it's impossible to not snap a few pictures.

If only he didn't look so peaceful right now, I'd be waking him up to keep me company.

Just as I snap another photo, my phone falls into his lap and startles him. Shît.

"Drop something?" He hands me my phone, then chuckles tiredly upon seeing the screen, "Look at my face there."

"I saw." I take my phone from him, "You look cute. I'm posting it."

"No, you look cute." He sits up and slides his arm around me, pulling me close so I can rest my head on his shoulder now, "Very cute, actually. Send it to me? I'll make it my wallpaper."

"I was gonna make it mine."

"Well, pretend you're sleeping then, so I can have one of you."

I laugh, "You're so lame, but okay." I close my eyes for a few seconds while he snaps a few pictures.

"Done." He shows me the pictures where he's smiling wide and showing the camera his middle finger.

I turn my head his way to fake disapproval, but before I get to do so, his lips are on mine, melting me from within with a slow kiss. 

"What was that for?" I question breathlessly.

"Do I need a reason other than I just love kissing you?" He tilts my chin up before leaning in to steal a few more.

My heart plummets in my chest with every peck, but I retreat when it hits me that we're surrounded by plenty of eyes.

"We're being that couple."

"You're the only one who has a problem with that." He kisses my temple and sits back, resting his other hand on my thigh now.

I cuddle up to his side as I open the picture in Instagram, "What should I caption it?"

"Sleeping beauty?"

I chuckle, "Perfect." I search for his handle briefly before it hits me that he deactivated. I keep forgetting that, "Hey, Zayn?"

"Hmm?"

I look up at him, "Why did you deactivate your Instagram? There was a lot of cute content on there. I'm sure your thousands of followers are missing it."

"Yeah... well, I don't miss it." He shrugs, "Like I said, it's a distraction."

"A distraction from?" I raise a brow at him. He's been posting on that account continuously for the past seven years without fail, until recently. I don't get it.

He tenses up beside me and pulls his arm which was around my body away, "I just felt myself getting too attached to it, so I nipped it in the bud before it got worse."

I nod with understanding before laying my head on his shoulder again, "Makes sense. Besides Instagram, you're not really a social media guy."

He doesn't put his arm around me like before, nor does he sit back comfortably in his seat either, so I lift my head yet again to look at him.

His jaw is clenched, his gaze fixed on his lap and his hands are clasped together while his thumb taps over the other. Do I ask?

I grab a magazine to browse through since I don't want to bother him with too many things as he just woke up. I know I hate that. At the same time though, I'm curious about what he said yesterday. He seems like he's in his own head right now.