You and I //Z.M

//31//Guilt

#31

*two years later*

Author

September, 2016

Zayn puffed out smoke in to the thick air, watching it form unintelligible shapes in the air. The room was beyond cold, his teeth jittering as he watched the snow blanket the road, making school kids happy.

When the addicting taste of tobacco reached his lungs, He puffed the smoke out yet again. Feeling relieved.

He took a deep drag and put it aside, sighing, as he felt his stubble grow longer. It was surprising as to why he didn't have the interest to even shave it off, look clean. But nothing interested him. Not anymore.

He turned and gazed tiredly into the full length mirror across the room. The man staring right back at him was a stranger- tousled and weary.
The past two years had taken a huge toll on him. He never was the same. His beard was totally unshaven, his raven hair dishevelled.

'You need to shave.' His conscience told himself. He neither agreed to it, nor pushed it away.

His eyes landed on her picture, which covered his wall completely. She looked beyond perfect.

Thoughts and memories came rushing in as he gazed longingly. How he wished she was here now.

If she was there for a bit more, they could have had a family of their own by now.

The knock on the door interrupted him. Waliyah's head popped in. "Zayn, breakfast's ready." She said, in a monotonous voice.

No family member of the Malik's had felt peace after she had left. They blamed her for a cause she never had a hint about.

Waliyah turned her gaze away from her picture, tears stinging her eyes.
Zayn nodded at her, not even gracing her with a look, as he continued to stare at the depressing weather.

Waliyah closed the door and headed downstairs. The house had lost a life after she left. Aliya left, both physically and emotionally, but the worst part, was when Zayn lost his soul, his beautiful, joyful atmosphere.

Even though he seemed so close, he was just far away.

Zayn became a body without a soul, without vitality. Everyone missed and mourned, as if he was dead. Everyone told him to move on, it wasn't meant to be.

But how could he? No one could experience the pain he went through. No one knew how much he wanted her back in his life, how much he wanted to hold her tight.

He let go of all the connections he had. The boys persuaded and nagged him to continue working. He didn't want to. He lost all interest in life.

His rage towards himself reflected on himself. He killed himself everyday.

He searched for her. He searched wherever he could. Contacted all her friends and relatives. But no one could satisfy his question. They never knew where she went.

Even her family left Manchester. Leaving no trace to her. Leaving him all alone.

But not for long, he told himself.

That's was the only source of motivation he had, to get her back, to tell her how much he needed her in his life.

The phone ringing broke him away from his thoughts again.

"Hello?" Zayn answered. His voice sounded so weary, it wasn't like him.

"Zayn?" Harry's voice resonated.