Escapade » z.m

22. I Talk To My Friend's Mother

Truth be told, if he did, he didn't know if he'd accept it.

He had broken so many promises, so many hopes.

He was selfish, he knew that from the start. But not to this extent. He never thought he'd do such thing, even when he'd dreamed about it almost every single day. It was all still a dream, to be here, finally.

And he almost always wondered when he'd wake up, and the reality will fall into place.

He hadn't, until now.

So maybe this was real, after all?

He was here, in Ravenford. He was here and he was free, maybe.

He opened his eyes, and detached himself from the door. Walking across Lucas' bed, he reached the curtains and drew them open, closing his eyes as a reflex.

But there was no need. There wasn't any sun to shine in your eyes. Instead, everything was grey and the window was dressed in fog.

Zayn ran his hand over the cold window glass, which smudged at his touch. The fog melting away as he drew something over it.

I'm free, right? He wrote. He stared at it for some time, then swept his hand over it, erasing it entirely.

He unlatched the window, and opened it. He had some difficulty opening it wider, but after fixing the hinge a little bit, it did.

Zayn leaned, pressing his palms on the cold window sill.

Everything was so still. The trees didn't dance, the air didn't accentuate the rosiness of his cheeks.

It had rained in the night, he could tell.

With the realisation, his bare feet felt colder on the surface and he turned back to sit on the window sill. The moment he did, he caught Lucas' eyes peering at him, that peeped out from his blanket along with his head.

"Are you mental?" whispered Lucas, his voice was raspy and his messy brown hair fell on his forehead more than usual. "Close the window, will you? I don't want to die." He pulled the duvet over his head again.

"Can you get me my jumper? I slept without it." Although he was barely audible behind the sheets, Zayn heard the strained plea in his voice.

He nodded, though he knew Lucas couldn't see and closed the window, deciding not to latch it. "I can assure you'll not die, at least."

"Yeah, right. If I had brains about not sleeping in just my shirt last night, and didn't freeze to death already, I'd agree with you."

Zayn shook his head and went inside the closet. There, he exchanged his last night's comforter with a grey hoodie. He liked it very much, his dad had brought it for him.

"If you were feeling cold last night why didn't you get up and wear it?" He asked, throwing the jumper towards Lucas' bed once he was in the dorm again.

Lucas poked his head out again. "Oh, my lovely jumper." He sang, and stretched his arm out to slide it inside his duvet. Then, he slowly sat up, still not coming out of his confines.

Zayn crossed his arms, and watched him with an amused smile.

Under his duvet, Lucas struggled to wiggle inside his jumper.

Zayn chuckled, and shook his head at him. He went towards his bed, and pulled the covers away entirely, exposing Lucas to the cold air.

"Zayn!" shrieked Lucas, "What are you doing?"

"Wear it quickly." commanded Zayn, gesturing at the jumper that was halfway down his head. "Don't be a drama queen."

Lucas squinted his eyes, "You're evil." He said. Muttering fast curses under his breath, he wore his jumper and settled his hair that were somewhat presentable. "Happy?"