The Script (Liam Payne)

Chapter 7

"Oh the heart that has truly loved never forgets, but as truly loves on to the close." - Thomas Moore, Those Enduring Young Charms

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My eyes crinkled as the sunshine through the window shined on my eyes. I groaned as I pulled the pillow under my head and kept it over it, trying to prevent the sunlight. But within some seconds, the sun light burned on my skin waking me up completely. I was facing the side of window and all i could see was distant sea and birds shining in the empty blue sky.

It took me a while to take in where I was. On a far away island, with no clothes worth-wearing, on my honeymoon. With my husband, if I may add. My head immediately snapped to the other side of the bed hoping to see Liam, still on his side of the bed, I wished. But my mind puzzled when I saw his side of the duvet neatly folden and nothing except the bells on the door ringing. He was gone.

I slipped out of the bed and folded my side of the blanket as well. Wearing my slippers on, I gently pulled down his sweat shirt, which I was wearing, and ,made my way out of the bedroom.

In the quest of searching my husband, which I wasn't really interested to, I decided to discover the magnificent house. It was big, much more bigger than I had expected. One floor led to another but there was no other bedroom. Which architect does that? An architect knowing that it is a honeymoon house, my subconscious answered.

Almost every wall I saw was made up of glass. Wooden flooring with diamond crystals adorning the ceilings, I found my way through the first floor. There was a pool table and video game, I guess? Definitely the husband's panel, I thought. Not having much interest in that floor, I climbed on the last floor. And once out the door, I saw myself on a beautiful terrace with nothing but only sea water till wherever my vision lasted. There was a dining table at the far corner and nothing else. This would have been my perfect destination if the situation was different. I sighed and walked towards the fences of one of the sides of the terrace. 

Even though I was on the second floor, it wasn't that high. Everything was much quiet and there was just no noise. The only noise I could hear was that of the glistening water and my heart beat. It was that quiet. I craned my neck towards the floor of the house and saw a small garden at the adjoining side of the pool. A smile settled on my face as I rushed towards the garden.

There were all kinds of flowers in that small garden made up in a small space. They ranged from white orchids to a clutch of violets and also, a huge bunch of tea roses as well as a basket filled with white lillies. They all looked so beautiful and almost surreal that I sat on my knees and took one of the flowers in my hand, not plucking them. I leaned in forward and took in the aroma of the winsome daffodile and the pleasant smell almost woke up all the cells of my body. 

I spent a lot of time at the garden, taking in the fragrance of all the flowers growing there. They did a great job in refreshing me, revitalising me which I really seemed was necessary, taking in all the things which were happening to me.

Within that time, I didn't pay attention to my state. My hair was tied in a horrendous bun. My forehead was plastered with the soil, since I was trying to place away the strand of hair falling over it. My bare thigh and legs were soaked with soil. And, I could hardly make out if my tee shirt or his sweat shirt was grey or brown. Well done, Tiara. 

I watered the plants and carefully caressed them since they did need a lot of it. I just had one question in my mind that how could these flowers be so well kept if there was no gardener around? I once again looked around and there was no one. I again went back to what I was doing.

Singing, humming songs, dancing a few moves, I was actually enjoying what I was doing. Something I was liking and going according to the way I wanted, a rare case in a few days. All the flowers looked much better with the same drops of waterlet on them, reminding me of the times I spent in the garden at my place.

"What the hell are you doing?" A voice startled as I was still in my own world. I didn't have to look at him to know whose voice it was. I could sense the confusion in his tone, but what stood out to be dominant was the flood of anger in it. Why was he angry all the damn time?

I stood up, pulling his sweat shirt down again to make it reach at least till my mid thigh. I turned around to face him and his already shocked expression turned in to a blowed manifestation.

I glanced his body from head to toe. He was shirtless and was just wearing his grey trousers. His hair was, as always, cleanly gelled behind. The entire of his body was drenched in sweat and his biceps looked flexed. He has just worked out, I guess. Perfect body, my subconscious butt in, he has a perfect body. I never in my life, ever drooled over someone. And here I was, drooling over my husband and removing my eyes over his chiselled body almost felt impossible. How does my husband look good all the damn time?

"Are you done gawking over my body?" His words got me out of my reverie. A pinch of shame and embarassament flooded over each and every nerve of my foundation. I immediately regretted the resolution of 'seeing' him. Gawking is an over expulsive term, and I'm sure I wasn't gawking him like an owl.

"I wasn't gawking you." I said, trying to collect all the confidence I had inside me.

"Yeah, right." He rolled his eyes.

"And what does it seem to you I was doing?" I answered his previous question. I folded my hands on my chest as an attempt to cover the sweat shirt as I saw him looking over it.

"Tiara, why , for the name of God, are you gardening?" he corrected his question. He really mastered at anger management.

"Because," This because didn't have a reason, "I like it.", It was all I could come up with.

"What!?" He snapped back. He took one step towards me and I automatically stepped back. He stopped coming towards me when he saw me move back.

"There is nothing to do here, Liam. I don't want to play freaking pool or any video game. Even you were missing."

"So you decided to do gardening?", his face showed a clear expression indicating 'are-you-fucking-kidding-me', " That too with my clothes on?" He clutched his knuckles, something he does when his vexation is fuming.

"Liam, did you forget that I don't have any clothes? Oh wait, so that is what the problem is." I stated clealy understanding his problem.

"What are you talking about Tiara?"

"You aren't really angry on me, Liam. You are just pissed off because I spoiled your sweat shirt."

"Excuse me? What--"

"Wait. You don't really care of what I do, until and unless you are involved in that. This isn't about a tee shirt or anything, but you are hopelessly in to yourself, you don't care a damn about anyone, don't you?" It hit me like a chord. I actually started to realize how he was. He was all sweet to me during the wedding when his father was around. But when it was just the two of us on the dance floor, he showed me his real colors. He didn't offer me his clothes on his own accord but since I mentioned about his father, his bag was practically mine. I regretted the decision of marrying him.

"You can't just judge my character in a day, Tiara." he said through his gritted teeth. 

"I'm not judging you, Liam. I'm just stating the facts. Those vows obviosuly meant nothing to you."

"Why would they mean anything to me, or us?"

"Only a person with a disposition like yours can say that. The press reports, the media head lines, I thought all of those were fake. But I think i will start believing them, actually. You don't care about anyone. And.."

"Stop it." He warned me. Those two words clearly showed that he warned me. My subconscious also warned me to stop it. But i think it wasn't really me who was speaking.

'Why? Reality hurts, doesn't it? It would sick for a self obsessed obnoxious bastard--"

"Dammit, Tiara! Can you fucking stop it!? Yes, I don't care a damn of what you do. Wait, why would I care? All of it is just a fucking contract, isn't it? Your father is a a broken brankrupt person who is in a desperate need of help. You should worship my father and me for helping your daddy-dear out of his misery. But what do you do? Insult me and talk about my character? You should --" His words went hush as my palm hit him hard on his cheek, making him stop. No one talks about my father like that.

--X--

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