Drown [z.m.]

25.

It was planned so perfectly to look like an accident, something they may or may not publish in Sunday's newspaper and these elderly couples would look over it and sigh, because oh, another tragedy? And they'd go around with it in their hearts for a while until they forgot and that was exactly what Zayn Malik wanted.

He walked to Lake Monroe in worn out sneakers and his favourite jumper that kept him warm on the way there. He'd taken the time to brush his hair and put on the best perfume he owned. Then he stared at himself in the mirror until his eyes teared up and he was a blur in a parallel universe. On the way he listened to the sounds of that morning in autumn and cars whooshing by and the lapping of water when he got closer and closer.

He loved to swim and that was how he would punish himself. Dying in the hands of something he adored. A bit like what he did to everyone he loved.

He threw his clothes aside and jumped in like it was another swim.

And he stayed underwater until his mechanisms collapsed.

And it was so easy because everyone would think it was just an accident when they found his body floating on the surface. But things never usually go the way they're planned and for some reason, his heart didn't give up completely.

* * *

Clementine never believed in coincidences. And one cold morning in autumn, she discovered that she'd been right all along.

She's holding a flask of tea in her hand, and driving single-handedly. But the tea is already cooling down and it's getting harder and harder to steer with one hand, so she stops the car by the roadside and gets out.

The area is beautiful, she thinks, almost perfect. It's far away from the city with it's plasticity and artificialness. A lake looks through some now-bare trees, and Clementine suddenly wishes she had her brushes with her so she could capture this moment forever.

But her thoughts dissolve into nonexistence when she sees something in the water, and her mind jumps to the thought of lake monsters and serpents, but she brushes it off.

She moves closer and looks through the criss-cross of the branches of bare trees, and through the ripples of the water, she sees dark hair.

A body, floating on the expanse of water. It's still and unmoving and frighteningly familiar.

And in the matter of a millisecond, everything just seems to make sense to her.

Because when you're so immeasurably in love with someone, things just fall into place like they did for Clementine when she realized that no, coincidences were not real and yes, she was meant to find Zayn Malik barely-breathing and floating one cold morning in autumn.

The flask falls from her hand, and her fingers are flying as she dials the emergency line, and her voice shakes when she explains to them that 'a boy drowned and he's right in front of me, and hurry please'.

And Clementine? She is one of the few people who truly understands Zayn Malik and she knows deep down that his death was not an accident, and that he had planned it along.

Because Zayn Malik had regrets etched into his bones, faults running through his blood, and chances he never took carved onto his heart.

But he smiled on the outside, so everyone simply fell for it and believed what they wanted to.

///

listen to the music i linked if u want to feel some type of way :(

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