chapter twenty-two
I woke up to Zayn's body, feeling his tight biceps around my body. I loved waking up beside him. I let my eyelids droop close and I savored the moment.
- - - -
I woke up again and Zayn was still beside me. That's what true love is. Waking up to the one you love and knowing that they are not gone.
Little did I know, that that same night I would go to sleep by myself. And I would wake up by myself. And then wake up again... by myself.
- - - -
THE MORNING BEFORE
"Morning babe," Zayn's voice filled my ears as he played with my hair.
I leaned against his chest and mumbled sleepy nonsense.
"Today's the cabin party, it's at Harry's this year I think..." Zayn rubbed my back with one hand and played with my hair with the other one.
I kissed Zayn's chest and whispered, "We can go if you want to go,"
"Only if you want to go," Zayn moved the hand that was playing with my hair down my face and stroked my cheek.
I smiled into his hand and mumbled, "Well, you're on a streak, you've been going to the party every year, you can't just not go this year because of me. Let's go."
Zayn chuckled, "That's true. Hahah, I can't let Harry beat my streak." Zayn interlocked my fingers with his and brought our hands to his lips and kissed them. Honestly, if in the beginning of the school year you asked me if I thought Zayn was the mushy, cuddly type of boy in a relationship I would've been so strongly against it. Yet here I am having my hand kissed by a boy who seems like he'd be the least affectionate person in the world. The universe is mad.
"Pancakes?" Zayn whispered.
"Yes. Pancakes." I groaned and rolled off Zayn's chest and slowly put my feet in the ground. I reached for my RayBans glasses out of habit, just because I don't like having to show people my "blind boy" eyes, even if Zayn is used to them. Flaws will just always get to me, its inevitable. Before I even had to struggle to get up by myself and struggle my way to the kitchen, Zayn was right by my side, my arm in his and he was guiding me down the steps to the kitchen. Man, how can one feel so safe in someone's arms? It's unreal.
I sat in a stool and leaned against the wall. Every time I sat around as Zayn cooked it reminded me of the beginning of the year when we had to bake those cupcakes for Garden Day. It seemed like a life time away...
As I leaned back I enjoyed the smell of the mix as it was being cooked. I tried to push aside my desires of wishing I could see Zayn's back muscles as he cooked. Wishing I could see him in his boxers as he flipped the pancake over. Pushing aside the dark thoughts of wishing I was never blind and I could be helping him make the pancakes, rather than watching from afar like the disabled boy that I am. God, I hate the word disabled.
"Liam?" Zayn interfered with my dark thoughts.
"Yeah?" I turned my head to the sound of his voice.
"Do you want honey or syrup with your pancakes?"
"Yeah, sure. Either's fine."
"Alright. The pancakes will be done in a minute."
"Sounds good." I mumbled. And closed my eyes, wishing I was never blind or at least had the money to get an operation to fix my eyesight.
- - - - -
Zayn helped me choose the outfit I was to wear for the party. I usually trusted my mom, Niall or Louis with these things, but now Zayn had gained my trust to style me. He even told me I looked "sharp" which I'll admit made my heart flutter a little.
