I'd tell you, but then I'd have to kill you (One Direction)

Epilogue : Mourning

His throat was sore, as though rubbed with sandpaper, and was unable to speak. His face, which was usually a healthy tan, seemed to dim and become a worn out pale, with the acception of the red patches that continuously stained his cheeks due to endless nights of crying. 

The immaculate drawing she had once sketched was framed and sitting on his bedside table, staring him in the face. He longed to be the happy person he was in the picture, along side his true love, but he knew there was no chance of that ever happening. 

Everybody knew there was no chance of that ever happening.

And so, as days passed, they remained hopeless. Many of them stayed locked in their rooms, whereas others turned to the only way they assumed they could get past their mourning; by pretending as though nothing ever happened.

This, however, wasn't a very good plan. They couldn't get past a single conversation without the topic of the girl springing in, it was as though she was related to every topic they bothered to talk about. 

Zayn sat up right in his bed and rubbed his blood-shot eyes once more. He inhaled a shakey breath and closed his eyes, letting the memories of his love swim in his mind.

Ironic, huh? It was a shame she never learnt how to swim, maybe she would've been able to slide herself out of the blackness of death. 

He recalled the agonisingly slow moments she mouthed 'I love you' before she pelted off the cliff. He remembered the image of the floating body in the curls and whisps of blood that tainted the river. He relived the moment he heard his best friend's screams of terror, the moment they all realised they'd never see her ever again. He wrapped himself of the memory where he realised he'd never kiss her ever again.

Robyn. His sweet, selfless Robyn. She had chosen to save his life instead of hers and her father's. She let him live.

But living and surviving are two different things.

To live is to enjoy life, to cherish the best moments and forget the worst.

To survive is to eat and sleep and move and breath. It's meaningless unless you have something or somebody to survive for. 

Robyn was that person for Zayn. Robyn was the person he'd survive for, and all though it took him a while to realise so, he had no doubt that it was the truth. She was the anchor to his life.

For the first time since Robyn passed, Zayn got himself out of bed and cleaned himself up. He showered in silence, brushed his teeth in silence, and dressed in silence. He hadn't eaten, and lost his shine that he had when he was with Robyn. He didn't shave, he knew Robyn always liked his stubble, but remained looking in the mirror. He looked at his hazel eyes that had lost it's love and warmth. He observed his skin that paled and fragiled. Running his hand through his hair, he sighed and tightened his black tie and blazer. He looked handsome to say the least, as always, despite his sudden change in health.

The funeral was what he had been dreading the most, by far. The thought of having to face all of her friends, family... did she even have a family left? He wasn't sure. Robyn had never really spoken about her family, and he understood why, seeing as it all seemed like one big mess.

He slowly sludged himself out of the dark room, his eyes on the floor and his clean, shiney black shoes dragging. The others were all waiting. Harry, Louis, Niall, Liam, Paul, Danielle and Eleanor. Belle was meeting them there, seeing as she didn't know them well enough to stay and to mourn quietly. 

They all looked at eachother, saying nothing, and silence deafened them in the car drive towards the church where her mother was also buried. 

What a terrible life she must've had, he thought. Mother dead, father missing, birth father evil, constantly on the brink of death. He felt guilty that he hadn't believed her on her statements on Perrie. He was regretting that he hadn't kissed her sooner, told her he loved her quicker.