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𝗮𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗮 𝗴𝗼́𝗺𝗲𝘇 | 𝟰
when i wake up, the spot zayn had slept in beside me is empty. still flat on my back, i extend my arm out and pat the clear space in hopes of, eventually, touching some part of his body. a few seconds later with no luck, i sit up and rub my eyes as i realize he's not here. but that's when my nose is overwhelmed with the scent of bacon which makes me smile. he is here.
i climb out of bed and tip-toe into our bathroom where i use the restroom before washing my face and applying my morning serums and moisturizers. after brushing my teeth, i walk towards the kitchen. the closer i get, the more louder the music becomes and the scent grows closer. i walk in and find zayn dancing around with a spatula in his hand that he's using as a microphone while he sings passionately into the end of it.
i've always known that zayn could sing but it still amazes me whenever he does. "𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝 𝙬𝙚'𝙧𝙚 𝙜𝙤𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝 𝙞𝙩 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙞𝙩 𝙢𝙖𝙠𝙚𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡 𝙖𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙚." i'm smiling as i stand there. he spins around, not at all fazed to see me there and instead begins to sing to me. he reaches his arm out and caresses the side of my face. "𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙞 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙙𝙞𝙚 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙮𝙤𝙪, 𝙗𝙖𝙗𝙮 𝙞 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙙𝙞𝙚 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙮𝙤𝙪, 𝙮𝙚𝙖𝙝." i want to melt right here on this floor. i pick up a large spoon and start singing into it, as well. together we sing, "𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙩𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙪𝙨, 𝙞𝙩'𝙡𝙡 𝙣𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚 𝙢𝙮 𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙙, '𝙘𝙖𝙪𝙨𝙚 𝙗𝙖𝙗𝙮 𝙞 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙙𝙞𝙚 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙮𝙤𝙪. 𝙗𝙖𝙗𝙮 𝙞 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙙𝙞𝙚 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙮𝙤𝙪, 𝙮𝙚𝙖𝙝." i'm not as good a singer as zayn but he had once told me that my voice is actually decent. with lessons, it would probably become stronger.
the song continues to play as he turns his attention back towards the pancake that's slowly bubbling on the flat pan. "how did you sleep?" he asks me, glancing at me quickly before he flips the cake.
"really good." we share a smile together, knowing exactly why i had a good night's rest. "i had a cool dream, though."
zayn raises his eyebrows. "what was it about?" he picks up his cellphone and turns down the volume of his music.
i step closer to him and reach around his body, picking up a piece of bacon that is laying on the plate. "it was really weird," i say as i take a bite. "i was on this tropical island and there was this big dog that could talk. he was, like, my only friend and we were searching through the whole island to build a boat so we could escape."
"that's funny." he tells me, not seeming too invested in my words. almost like his mind is occupied with something else. or maybe someone else.
