Cory just got off the phone with Church. Half hour ago, he'd sent a removal truck to collect all of Zaire's belongings and offload it to his old house. A house which had no heating, or electricity but he seriously didn't give a f*ck, Zaire needed sorting; she was just getting too big for her boots. He walked past his newly ordered King sized bed sitting in the middle of the front room. And noticed his washing still sitting in the washing machine, the front room was a bit of a mess, the place was so quiet. Too quiet.
Zaire's contagious laughing should have been invading his ears, her loud talking should have been annoying him, her scent should have been enveloping him, her smile, her warmth, her allure...
Pride clung onto Cory's heart relentlessly. It simply refused to let go of him. Cory sighed deeply and dragged his hand down his face. He laughed in his head as a vision of Zaire early in the morning popped into his head, how her eyes appeared small because her eyelids were heavy and her lips would look swollen, and the irritated face she had on when she'd just woken up. He always took the time to make fun of her for it.
He threw on a Hollister body warmer on top of his jumper and grabbed his car keys.
"Zai, tu-" He quickly stopped himself, remembering that things had changed. She was no longer with him; here. And as much as he hated to admit it, it was going to take a lot of getting used to. He turned off the lights and stepped outside.
Cory drove along the dark roads. His heart conveying the same image of nothingness and blackness. His heart was heavy as though he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. Forever fighting sleep, how could one fight what was natural? How could one fight that which they should happily embrace? And there was only one who could truly relieve him, but everything that he'd become forbid him from crying out to her.
He instinctively touched the scar on his face, the one Zaire would also stroke while she smiled that smile.
He'd gotten that scar defending Zaire, so it meant much more to her than it did to him, it was a constant reminder of the love he had for her. Cory was her world, she trusted him and she loved him. She knew him like no one else did. For that reason Cory hated his eyes, they were truly the windows to his soul. And they allowed Zaire right in, right into his soul and for her to see him clearly. The true Cory. This was something he feared, he tried to fight but something that he had no control over.
"Jods, I can't believe this, she's a right b*tch and I'd say it to her face as well!" Zaire nattered away on the phone to her friend as she made her way home from sixth form.
"Zaire, I'm speechless right now."
"This is why I cut n*ggas off! Because I feel like I have to! I only called to see if you were ok cus you weren't in History today, I didn't expect to hear this."
"I'm trying be calm about it init, cus we're grown females." Zaire threw her head back and laughed.
"Be serious Jods, I beg you f*ck her up." "
Zaire, you're mad!"
"Ayyy..." Zaire turned around and saw Rio jogging towards her.
"Jods, I'll call you back."
"Ok, later babe. Take care."
"Hey, who you calling ayy?" She asked him while smirking.
"Sorry, you alright hoe?" Rio stood before her, clutching onto the strap of the leather Fred Perry bag that sat across his body.
