Incomprehensible [Zayn]

Chapter 44

When I awoke, it was to Zayn telling me that we had arrived back in London. I rubbed my eyes carefully and leaned across his lap to look outside, and sure enough, there was the city. I smiled widely, partly happy to be returning home. I'd missed my friends and family during the time Zayn and I had been away, even Ian's annoying attitude.

I held Zayn's hand tightly in mine as the plane landed, managing to keep my eyes open and locked on our entwined fingers, loving the way his larger hand seemed to completely cover my smaller one. The plane landed at Heathrow, and I was glad to finally be back on the ground. Zayn and I waited patiently as we let the other passengers depart before us.

"Welcome home," he told me, kissing my cheek softly before standing from his seat. I did the same, stretching upwards towards the sky.

"Nearly home," I corrected and he just rolled his eyes before reaching above to retrieve our suitcases and bags. As we left the plane, I inhaled the air, glad to be outside once again. Though, I already missed France.

"We should go for something to eat now," Zayn said, tugging up the handle of his suitcase once we were back on the ground of the runway. I copied his actions and looked around. Back in England.

"Sure," I answered. "Where about?"

Zayn shrugged. "I don't know, just wherever they sell a good sandwich," he said, grinning down at me. He held my free hand tightly in his own, swinging them back and forth between our bodies as we made our way through the many people waiting for their flights. We pushed our way out, through the exit and into the streets of London. I smiled at the familiar scene of red double-deckers before us.

Zayn continued to hold my hand tightly in his as he guided me into the closest cafe, my stomach grumbling as the scent of garlic bread filled my nostrils. We sat down at a table near the counter, and Zayn ordered us our lunch, handing me the camera while we waited. I skipped through the remaining photographs, smiling at one of us at the beach.

"I honestly don't remember you taking half of these," I told him and he only laughed in response.

"I'm quick," he said, a suggestive smirk on his lips. I counldn't help but grin back at him before lowering my eyes to the screen once again.

"I'm happy to be back," I said, looking around the interior of the building.

"I clearly remember you saying you never wanted to leave France," Zayn pointed out as our food arrived. He took a sip from his glass, his eyes looking at me over the rim.

"At the same time, I missed home," I admitted and he nodded.

"I get that sense of missing something dear," he said, nodding. "When I was travelling, I always missed home, and coming back was something so special that I never let the opportunity slip."

I nibbled at the end of my sandwich slowly, trying to lengthen the time Zayn and I would have alone together. I wanted to go home and see my family, but at the same time, I was enjoying being with Zayn too much.

"You have a bad habit for apologizing," I stated and Zayn nodded, seeming to be confused with my sudden comment. "I just realized that I've never apologized for calling you lots of horrible names."

Zayn shrugged. "I deserved it. I was a dick to you - name calling doesn't bother me in the slightest."

"Still," I argued. "I'm sorry for all the shitty things I said to you."

He laughed and I frowned. "I just find it amusing that after my torturous ways, you think nasty names deserve an apology."

"Can't you just accept my apology?"