cheap thrills :: [malik #fdc]

thirteen. second vacation

So this goodbye is hard because I don't want it to be a goodbye. I can't have it be a goodbye. I need to know that I'll still see you smile and I'll still be able to Netflix and chill and I'll still crack jokes and you'll still tell me to use your nickname. I'm not good at endings because I'm not that good at beginnings. I'm not good at making relationships happen. But, we happened. I don't want this to end. I really didn't want this to end.

And I guess what I'm trying to say is that I want a future with you. Somehow, I need to know that you'll still wanna cuddle with me at night and I'll fall asleep with your head on my shoulder. I need to know that you'll still want this, too, even after we go our separate ways.

I hope you read this and we're still us, yeah?

Anyway. I'm rambling.

Yours,
Zayn.

P.s., I didn't think it was possible to say this after two weeks, and I wish I wasn't a coward and could say it in person, but I think I've fallen in love with you.

Deadass.

__

"You don't look so good. Y'alright, mate?"

It was Friday.

It was already Friday afternoon, and Lennon expected Zayn to be on a plane to Los Angeles by now.

You're coming  right??

He didn't have the heart to respond yet. The message was still unanswered, because he didn't have the heart to tell her no.

"Fine," he replies, as Harry sits upon his desk at work. "Why?"

Harry only kicks up his feet, folding his arms. "Because you look like you could use another vacation," he smirks, "and I swear you just got back."

"Not everyone takes as many days for personal health as you do, Styles."

The boys look up. It's Helen Beca, their boss, with her seemingly permanent scowl and tightly combed bun.

"But if he did," Harry grins, "he might actually smile more often, yeah?"

She ignores him, turning to Zayn. "Any word on the Koons?"

"Uh..." Zayn hurriedly scrolls through his messages. He'd been in contact with the artist, Jeff Koons', agent before he'd fallen asleep last night...around three AM.

Beca rolls her eyes. "I need to know about it, Zayn. You know the new gallery opens next week."

"Right," he nods, lifting his phone. He forces a smile. "Just a sec, Beck. Lemme just make a quick call."

She raps his desk. "I'll be in my office."

And Harry watches on as Zayn scrolls through his messages for the correct contact.

The phone rings in his ear.

"Hello?"

"Horan here."

"Niall," Zayn sighs in relief, "hey, mate. You busy?"

"Caught me right before lunch. How's it going, man?"

"Good, good. But, Ni--"

"Hey, Zayn! Almost forgot, did ya' get my email last night?"

"I--" Zayn rubs his tired eyes, "might've missed it."