Wiping away one of the many tears that are falling down my cheeks, I turn and take one more look of my two best friends. Louis is standing next to Liam on the porch, his hands on his face doing the same as me and wiping away the tears. Liam however is stood smiling at me, and waving, but there are still tears in his eyes, I don't want to leave, but I can't stay, I don't want to stay.
Taking in a deep breath, I walk around the corner, not looking back, keeping my head forwards at all costs. The grip I have of my suitcase handle is starting to slip as the sweat of anxiousness and sadness is filling my body. Tightening the grip of the handle, I turn another corner when my phone starts to ring. Taking my iPhone out of my grey oversized hoodie, I take a look at the phone screen.
Do I answer it? Or do I just leave it, what if I answer it and he starts bullying me again? What if I answer, he pleads for me to come back and I do. What if I don't answer him and it’s the last time I will ever speak to him again? A tear prickled down my cheek, the warm, salty substance burning the scratches on my face. The thing is, this isn’t a phone call, it’s a Skype call, and one where Zayn will see I'm crying, he will see where I am, and I will see him. I will see him gorgeous brown eyes, his long luscious eyelashes, his slender cheek bones and perfect lips. I know if I see him again, I will just want to go back to him, but I can't do that! Will power? I have to talk to him; why else would he be calling me, ok that’s a stupid question. You break up with your ex, who you still love and he has done nothing wrong, and you ask why he is calling. He wants answers.
Pressing my fingers against the screen on the ‘Accept’ button, my phone starts to load, then Zayn's face itself pops up on my screen. His eyes are blood shot and cheeks are ridden with tears stains, the brown glisten has now a dull and unhappy colour in his eyes, his use to be perfectly styled hair, is flat and lifeless. He looked just as bad as I do, I winced at the pain piercing in his eyes and written all over his face, I know I caused that.
“H-ey,” he stutters, looking down at his lap, as he is sat in his bedroom on his bed, led up against the cream wall.
“Hey,” I breathe, Zayn instantly looked back up at the phone screen when he replied,
“I ca-n't believe you answ-ered,” Zayn stutters again, looking deep into his eyes, the sadness made me feel even more guilty than I already do.
“Yeah, same,” I confess, another tear falling down my cheek,
“You’re crying?” Zayn inquires,
“No I'm not,” I insist, hastily wiping away the tear and trying my best to make myself look like I'm not.
“You always have been a bad liar,” Zayn chuckles to himself, I roll my eyes,
“Did you want something?” I snap, feeling guilty as soon as the words escaped my mouth, it was like vomit, and I couldn’t even control what I say now.
“Err, yeah, err I wanted to um, ask where you were going, and wh-y you are going.” Zayn returns to his stutters, as he continues to look down at his lap and frown.
“I'm not sure yet, and because of this,” I reply, pointing to my face, and rolling my eyes again.
“O-hh, well I doesn’t explain w-hy you left m-me” Zayn continues to stutter, and looking down at his lap.
“I have to go, bye Zayn.” I squeak, pressing down on the close button at the top of my screen.