Turn To You

For The First Time

“What’s your favorite color, Ariel?” He asked, not taking a second to look at me as he paced. He set the bag down on my bed, and upon further inspection, I found a bottle of half drank wine. I arched my brow at it - How drunk could this boy possibly be?

“Uh, teal?” I questioned more than said, watching him pace frantically. He seemed like a caged animal, trying to find some way out. To be honest, he was scaring the shit out of me.

“No Ariel. That’s not right. It’s been red since you were three. Your mom painted your room red for you and you cried because you were so excited. Remember!?” He practically screamed at me.

“Well yeah, but teal is pretty t-” 

“No!” He cut me off, stepping up to me and forcefully crashing his lips down onto mine. I pushed his chest away from me, the taste of cheap wine on his breath making me want to gag.

“Zayn what’s going on with you?” I asked, watching his pain stricken face turn to anger. 

“I don’t know anything about you, Ariel!” He yelled, a tear streaming down his cheek. I sighed, walking up to him and wrapping my arms around his waist comfortingly.

“You know plenty, Zayn,” I sighed. 

“Prove it!” He said, pushing away from me and grabbing the bottle of red wine. I crossed my arms over my chest - a chest clad with his old t-shirt, might I add. My mum had found it before I moved to the states, and I tended to hold onto it when I was stressed. It was a soothing thing for me to have. 

“Prove it how, Zayn?” I asked, my eyes on the bottle of liquour. 

“For every fact we don’t know about each other, we drink,” He said simply. I shook my head, sighing as I sat down indian style on the floor, pointing to the spot in front of me.

~Flashback~

“I don’t drink,” I told Zayn as he displayed a bottle of cheap looking red wine in front of me. He shook his head, apparently that was not going to do. 

“Come on, we’ll play spin the bottle and whoever it lands on takes a drink,” He grinned, seeming as if it were the perfect plan. I sighed.

“Fine.” 

I ended that night drunk off my ass and wearing Zayn’s top because I’d spilled all over mine. He had a grin on his face that made me feel awkwardly self-conscious. 

“What?” I asked, looking down at the floor with a blush.

“You look really nice in my shirt,” He grinned. 

~End flashback~ 

“Your favorite color is blue,” I said, looking him dead in the eyes. We’d been at this for a good half an hour, and a tear streamed down my face as I repeated his favorite color for the third time. He gave me the distant stare of a drunk person, and I wanted nothing more but to kiss it away. I hated this, how we could be laughing about memories one second, and then suddenly he was gone all over again. 

He picked up his hand and brushed the tear off of my face, a small smirk on his. I sighed, holding his hand tightly in mine. 

“You were scared of turtles till you were nine,” Zayn said matter of factly. I nodded, a laugh escaping my lips. 

“If you were homeless you’d hold a sign that said, ‘I don’t have a bed, can I sleep in yours?’” 

He nodded, his hand releasing the alcohol bottle a less tightly. Zayn had been losing this little drinking game of ours, and as much as it should have pained me to watch my best friend lose a game of facts about me, I knew how much I had really changed over the years since I’d seen him.