English Love Affair » z.m au

25. "It's Mary's day."

Zayn

 

“ Hey hot stuff, you have a voice of a sexy lad, roar.”

“ Hi Louis.”

The phone was imprisoned between my ear and my shoulder, as I folded the last of my laundry.

“ Dammit, I was sure I had it this time!”

“ Your voice was too high pitched to be real, you tried too hard to hide your accent, and come on, Louis, I think I know all different versions of your voice by now, just give it up. And did you just roar at me?”

“ Never! And yes, yes I did.”

I laughed, shaking my head to myself because of course he’d never give up, this was Louis we were talking about here.

“ Yeah, well, I figured this much.”

It had been three months since… her.

And he was always there, never once complained, and for that, I’d always be grateful.

If it wasn’t for Harry and him, I probably would have gone completely mad.

“ Wait, is this The 1975 playing at the background?”

“ Oh you wish, it’s the radio playing that new John Legend song.”

“ All of me, I love that song!”

“ Of course you do.”

He was such a girl sometimes, but he kind of grew on me, and there was no getting rid of him, so I might as well just embrace it.

“ So, do you want to come over for lunch today?”

“ No, I’ll have to pass. It’s Tuesday, it’s Mary’s day.”

And he let out the sigh that I knew was coming.

“ It’s been months, Zayn.”

“ Yeah, she has no one, Louis.”

“ Doesn’t make her your problem! I swear, sometimes, it’s almost as if you’re searching for a reminder of-“

“ I’m not doing this again.”

“ I just don’t get it!”

“ And you don’t have to. I never asked you to get any of this, Louis. You just need to let me be, alright?”

“ I hate this.”

“ Yeah, I know.”

“ But you’re okay, right?”

I wasn’t.

“ I’m fine.”

“ Alright, at least come over later, lets grab a beer or something?”

“ Alright, I’ll call you when I’m done.”

“ Okay then, see you later.”

Ever since my little encounter with Louis, I had attempted to rebuild whatever that was left of my life, of me. I decreased my drinking, busied myself as much as possible, and made it a weekly habit to spend every Tuesday with Mary; her grandma. She was old and alone, and she happened to remind me of the good days.

I wasn’t half bad nowadays, but I wasn’t good either.

Not even close.

Not at all.

I had given up on life coursing through my veins, attaching myself to the mere concept of survival. My heart was pumping, air was going through my lungs, I was a bit more communicative now, smiles came a bit more often, but I was far from alive.

The drive to Mary’s nursing home wasn’t too bad. I spent the visiting hours walking her around, giving her some tea which secretly had wine instead of the boiled water, and talking to her about how her previous week had been.

I didn’t know why, but Mary felt like home, like something you knew, grew up with, cherished for no clear reason.

She reminded me of her as well.

Even though I had always tried to deny it, if I ever had the privilege of watching her grow old, then she would have turned into Mary, no doubt about it.  

“ Let me ask you this, do you miss her, at all?”

Did I miss her?

It seemed like the only thing I was capable of doing was missing her.

“ Where did that come from?”

“ It’s been three months. You don’t talk about her, you don’t say her name, it’s almost as if she was never part of your life, like you never met her. But that’s not the case, is it?”

“ No, it’s not.”

“ Then what is it?”

“ Mary.”

“ Zayn.”

And that was it; my last drop of composure, my façade forgetfulness, fading away into the resemblance of it all.

“ It’s mostly the little things. It’s her voice, humming me to sleep, every octave of it, the sad, the sleepy, the seductive. It’s her fingers brushing through my hair. It’s that smile she gave me, when I told her I loved her, or when I was there for her. It’s that smirk of hers, that hid everything, so incredibly well. It’s how she said my name, firmly, yet, lovingly. It’s how she held me, for dear life. It’s mostly her, all that she was.”

My shoulders moved into a surrendered shrug, desperate tears forming behind my eyelids, because God, did I miss her.

Sometimes, I didn’t know what to wish for; to forget, or to forever remember.

Perhaps if I ever managed to forget her, to erase all traces of her, all the marks she left upon my soul, then I wouldn’t have to miss her, to lose her, to love her to no end.

But, if I forgot her, then with her would go all that was ever good about my life, about me.

With her would go, love, safety, warmth, and most probably sanity.

I wanted to forget her loss, but not her, if that made sense at all.

I wanted to lose my mind, the way she did, and meet her there; somewhere far, far away, where she would be all that was haunting me, and I would be the memory she’d want to imprison herself in, for all years to come.

I wanted her to kill me, and then bring me back in her memory, in her own maze of a mind.

I wanted to be the shadow following her, the voice in her head, the reminders she brought upon her own body.

I wanted to continue to love her, but I wanted her to love me too.

Or maybe I wanted to unlove her, and for her to unlove me too.

I didn’t know what I wanted, I just needed this to be over.

All of it.

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A/N: hey guys :)

so, we didn't exactly reach the set goal but I couldn't help but update, so here you go, hope you like this, and let me know what you think!

you can always message me or tweet me @deanmonhes if you want to talk, I'd love to get to know you all :)

till next time, hopefully with 6k reads?

ily x