Back To Life (Zayn Malik Fanfic)

chapter eight

Mia's POV

The floral shop is bustling with activity ahead of Easter next week. We just received a surplus of tulips and lilies, and customers are snatching them up like hotcakes. Jess and I gave Amanda the day off to rest and recharge, as she's been a huge help since Jess was away.

Amanda tilted her head as she picked up her check this morning, noticing the raise we had given her. I can use a raise. Amanda's voice echoed in my head as I recalled that night when she had said it. It seemed so long ago, but I had kept my word and mentioned it to Jess when she came back.

"All fixed now," said the contractor who had come to fix the small leak on the ceiling, startling me as I was reshelving some items. I glanced up and saw that the brown stain had disappeared, as if the contractor had replaced that section of ceiling.

"Perfect," I said as I watched the fairly attractive man wipe a trace of dust off his shoulder. I coughed into my arm, and he noticed, causing us both to laugh. The chime of the front door echoed through the flower shop as our laughter lingered.

I thanked the man for his help, squeezing his arm softly as I attended to the customer who had just walked in. His tall posture and tattooed forearms caught my eye as he stood at the entrance, his deep brown eyes fixed on me.

His gaze darted to my hand on the man's arm, then back to me. His eyebrows narrowed for a brief moment, but then went away when his sister squealed behind him at the new display of flowers at the front of the shop.

I greeted the two as I approached them. Zayn's eyes locked on the contractor I had just spoken to, while Wali asked me the price of the flowers in the front. Zayn stepped forward and wrapped his free arm around my waist and stopping at my lower back, pulling me close and kissing the side of my head. His territorial gaze never left the contractor, who was packing up his things.

Friends. Just Friends. I reminded myself.

His other hand seemed to be holding a jar filled with white pieces of paper in it. I didn't ask as i peeled myself from him, walking toward the front since Wali wanted to buy the Tulips. 

I waved goodbye to the contractor as he left. Then I rang up Wali and answered Zayn's question about who he was. I told him about the leak in the ceiling, and his once intense eyes then softened into his shy smile.

Zayn placed the jar on the counter labeled "Mate Date Jar." A smile slowly crept onto my face. I noticed the cursive letters and the heart after "Jar" and wondered if he had written it.

"Wali wrote it," Zayn said with a chuckle. "She helped with the whole thing." His mind-reading skills were immaculate, and I wondered if my facial expressions were easy to read. This was the second time he had read my mind without me saying anything.

"Pick one," Zayn said, his eyes bright and his smile wide. I handed Wali her change back and reached into the jar, pulling out a piece of paper. The thick paper felt rough in my hands as I unfurled it and read the cursive: "Go for a long walk on the beach and get vanilla ice cream."

I read out loud and Zayn smiled, revealing a small dimple on his cheek. His eyes sparkled with anticipation as he winked and mumbled, "I'll pick you up tonight at 7." I nodded in agreement and stared at the piece of paper in my hand.

Beach. I haven't been to the beach in so long. The last time I was there was with my dad, who wanted to go stargazing. The stars always seemed brighter whenever the sun went down. The calmness of the waves soothed something deep inside my soul. I haven't been to the beach since my dad passed away. It's long overdue.

The chime from the front door rings, and I tilt my head up, snapping myself back to reality. The jar is still on the counter, a reminder of the ones who are gone.