Twice in a Lifetime (Zayn Malik)

Chapter 50. Tweets.

"That's quite ambitious. Now can you tell me about these mysterious tweets of yours?"

Zayn chuckled at the question. "I should have seen that one coming."

"So, who are they about?"

"Someone .. I really care about." He answered and I wasn't surprised at how secretive he was keeping this.

"Special? Hmmm. Could it perhaps be a girl?"

"Perhaps..." He said with a smirk and I couldn't help a smile form on my lips. Javadd was really adorable when he's trying to be cryptic.

Who was this someone special? What if it was me? My hopes raised and my spirits almost lifted into the air but they immediately deflated when I considered the possibility of it not being me. What if it was someone else he found during these past few months?

Zayn would never do that to me.

"Alright. I understand and respect your privacy. Now tell me who's the first person you're going to see when you get home?"

"That's an obvious answer. My family. I've missed them so much and I can't wait to catch up."

"And after them?"

Zayn thought for a while before replying. "Probably call up my boys. It's been ages since we've hung together."

"And then?..." The reporter urged on and it was pretty clear she was trying to get him to spill who this secret person was.

"And ... that's it." He concluded bluntly.

"How about that special someone of yours?" She questioned eagerly.

"Ahhh. Well, I can't say too much about that. I simply want to rest and take a nice, long break before my next album."

"Well, congratulations on finishing your tour. And even if you won't tell me who this mystery lass is, I'm sure time will tell."

I gulped at her words.

"Yes, only time will tell." Zayn repeated with a crooked grin on his face.

I shut off the television as the interview came to an end. The way Zayn was so taciturn about his responses didn't help comfort me at all. I was sure I was the 'special someone' but what if I wasn't? What if he got bored with waiting and moved on? I pictured him with another girl in a close embrace, causing a subtle pain to swell in my chest.

To stop myself from over thinking, I needed to find a distraction. As I walked into the kitchen and turned on the lights, I got the broom from the kitchen closet and started sweeping the floor.

What were these tweets they were taking about? What did he say in them? Were they good things he said about this certain someone?

This was clearly not helping my continual thoughts so I decided to mop the wooded floor, wash down the granite countertops, clean every inch of the walls in the kitchen, and vacuum the whole house. When I looked at the clock it was already half past midnight and I was completely exhausted from occupying my thoughts with cleaning.

When I went upstairs to my room, I looked over at my mum's room, just blankly staring at the white door. I hadn't gone in there the whole week because well I was afraid - of what memories I would relive in that room. Before I knew it, I was already in front of her room and forced my hands to turn the door knob.

As I turned the light switch on, the bed was neatly made, the window was shut, and the bookcase was - well - empty. Except there looked to be like a piece of paper folded on one of the upper shelves. Half of it was hanging on the side and I tried to reach for it but I was too short. Jumping didn't work and before I could find another way to retrieve it, I heard my phone ring from my room.