four- thoughtful
song for this chapter: 'wrong side' by Georgia Fair
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He stared at the ceiling, not wanting to move. His back was aching from where Iris had hit him, and the unusually hard bed caused his head to throb. The sun had come up long ago, and Zayn had no idea what the time was.
He carefully stretched his arms above him, the sun perfectly highlighting all of his tattoos on his arms, the ones that iris had been so fascinated with when they had met for the first time.
After she had agreed to let him stay, she had disappeared without saying a word. Zayn wasn’t sure if he was supposed to follow her, or go inside and help himself. He waited awkwardly on the veranda, but she didn’t come back. His dry throat begged him to go inside and find water, so he did.
He primarily noticed that there was a lack of photographs, or any kind of decoration that would suggest that somebody had lived in the house for a long time. Candle holders hung on the walls, with yellow crudely made candles sitting in them.
He had walked aimlessly around the house, trying not to pry too much, but he couldn’t help stumbling on some things, like the fact that towards the back if the house there was a room filled with books. It had felt too quiet, and almost felt like it was... sacred or something.
Zayn quickly found the kitchen and saw that there was no running water. He saw a large pitcher of water on the floor, and eagerly grabbed a wooden mug sitting on an uneven shelf. He poured the water too quickly, and quite a bit of the water stained his pants and top. But he barely noticed, and quickly downed the water, loving the feeling of the semi-cool water trickling down his throat.
He probably drunk a litre of water, and by then the pitcher of water was nearly finished. He wiped the water off his lips with the back of his hand, and began to actually look around.
Everything seemed to be handmade: from the table, to the chairs, to the wooden mugs and even to the kitchen benches. He had run his fingers over the skilfully made objects, wondering who had made them.
He began to wonder about other things, foremost of those how Iris even lived out here. If something happened to her, then she would die. No one would hear her cries for help, her screams of pain.
Zayn shivered when he thought of that, because if anything bad happened to him whilst he was here, then he would die too. Maybe he was just overreacting a little.
Sounds of cows mooing brought him back to the present. His body still ached and he desperately was craving a cigarette to divert his mind from basically everything that was going on.
He had dreamt about Perrie, and he had woken up during the night, anger gripping him, but a horrible emptiness had emerged, making him clutch at his chest. Unfortunately, Zayn realised that despite what Perrie had done to him, he still loved her.
Was she thinking about him now? God, was anyone thinking about him? He wondered if the boys realised that his apartment was empty, or that his stupid car was missing from the car park. Did anyone see him leave?
He sat up, pushing the thin cotton sheets off him. The t-shirt that he had worn yesterday was on the floor, crumpled and smelling a bit off. He put it on anyway, since he really didn’t have a choice.
After he had gotten dressed, he walked to the kitchen, where Iris was stirring something in a pot that was sitting on top of a small fire. Zayn watched her for a bit, wondering what she was doing.
She noticed that he was standing there, and nodded her head at him. “Good morning, Zayn.”
His name fell awkwardly off her tongue, but there was no look of emotion or uncertainty on her face, which confused him greatly. Was she incapable of smiling or something?
“Morning.” Zayn murmured, rubbing his eyes.
“I made you breakfast.” She said, spooning some of the contents of the pot into a bowl, not looking at him.
“Oh.” Zayn said, blinking blankly at her. “You really didn’t have to.”
“You would have starved if I did not make you food.” Iris said, finally looking him squarely in the eye, holding the bowl out to him. He walked towards her, and grabbed the bowl carefully, grateful for the warmth that it emitted. He murmured his thanks and sat down.
“What will you be doing today?” Iris asked, standing near him, her back stiff, arms folded.
“I hadn’t really thought about it.” Zayn managed to say through a mouthful of porridge.
“Well, I will be leaving now.” Iris said, and spinning on her heel, she walked out.
Zayn looked at her leave, and shook his head. She really didn’t know how to act human, did she? It seemed like she was from the medieval period, where everything was stated as it was, and English was so perfect it almost seemed robotic.
He wanted to know more about her, but he knew that it would take a long time to break down those walls that made her seem so cold. She was so intriguing and different and it confused Zayn more than anything could.
He finished his breakfast, and placed the bowl and spoon on the counter, unsure of what to do with them. He stood in the kitchen for a moment, and sighed.
He knew what he was going to do today. He would walk down to where his car was sitting, and wait for someone to pick him up. He wondered whether he should tell Iris, and figured that he should.
“Iris?” Zayn called, walking out of the kitchen into the bleak hallway.
Iris appeared at the top of the stairs, her eyes narrowed slightly.
“Yes Zayn?” She said, almost sounding annoyed.
“I was just letting you know that I’m going to wait by my car, see if anyone can pick me up.” He said, looking at her straight in the eye, wondering how she would react.
She simply nodded, still no emotion on her face. “Just be careful that if you decide to come back here, you come back before it gets dark.”
“Alright.” Zayn said, and hesitated slightly. “Thank you for having me.”
She lowered her green eyes, playing with the comb she held in her hand. “You are welcome.”
Zayn turned around and walked out the front door, shutting it gently behind him. He smiled slightly as a cool breeze hit his face, ruffling his hair and bringing some life to his aching bones. The day was just as lovely as yesterday, with clear blue skies and a bright sun. He walked quickly back to the road, and started to walk down.
It was much easier to walk down, and for most of the part he jogged, loving how free he felt. Bugs assaulted him as he half-walked, half-jogged, some even managing to get into his mouth, but Zayn didn’t care, not one bit.
He thought about Iris as he walked to his car. Would he never see her again? A small part of him hoped that he would see her again, namely to find out more about her.
It was unlikely that anyone would pass by, but Zayn felt confident that someone would. It just wouldn’t make sense if someone didn’t. It had already happened, so the chances of it happening again were high.
Well, in theory.
Zayn even managed to smile when he saw his broken down car, looking as old and worn out as ever. He grabbed his car keys out of his pocket and slid into the front seat.
He gulped and muttered a silent prayer as he slowly put the keys into the ignition. He twisted the keys experimentally, and felt a flare of hope as the car made some gurgling noises, but fell silent, otherwise doing nothing.
He realised that his attempts were futile anyway, as he remembered that the front wheel was punctured. He opened the door and leant back in the seat, letting the cool air filter into the steaming car.
His mind wandered, and he didn’t focus on anything. He almost fell asleep, but stopped himself, realising that if he did then a car would drive right past and there would go all of his chances of getting home.
Sick of sitting in the car, he decided that he would lie down on the road, so that the sticks and stones would poke him in the back, stopping him from falling asleep. Keeping the car door open, he lay down, folding his arms under his head.
He thought about the boys. They had released Midnight Memories at the end of last year, and things were still going well. Midnight Memories had been his favourite album to produce, and he sometimes caught himself humming them as he did things.
They were on a brief break at the moment, mainly due to the fact that Zayn was organised to get married, well, today, in fact. It felt like ages ago that Perrie had driven off, leaving him alone and heartbroken.
But he didn’t really want to think about Perrie now. He thought about Liam instead, who really was unlucky when it came to love.
That’s what Zayn never understood: how love worked. Liam was a better guy than Zayn could ever be, yet his heart continued to get broken. He thought that Danielle had broken him the worst, though he tried to keep it under lock and key, not wanting anyone to see.
But Zayn noticed things more than the other boys, and even though Liam reassured the boys that he was fine, he really wasn’t. Liam had spent a worrying amount of time in his room, or he would go out by himself and not come back until the early hours of the morning.
But then Sophia came along, and Zayn thought that he’d be ok. They were happy together for a little while, but a month ago Sophia broke up with him, much for the same reasons as Danielle did.
There was a pounding at the door, waking Zayn suddenly from sleep. He looked at the time, and saw that it was three in the morning. He groaned and closed his eyes, hoping that he had imagined it.
But the person pounded on the door again, and disoriented, Zayn rolled out of his bed, his eyes filled with sleep. He stumbled to the front door, and peered through the peep-hole.
Liam was standing there, his hair soaked and plastered to his face, his head bowed. Zayn quickly opened the door, looking at his friend in shock.
“Liam?” Zayn said. “Mate, are you alright?”
“No,” Liam mumbled, pushing past Zayn. “I’m nowhere close.”
Zayn followed Liam as he walked into the living room, sitting down on the couch. He stared blankly at the floor, and Zayn stood there, shifting his weight from foot to foot, unsure of what to do.
“What’s wrong?” Zayn asked, sitting down next to him.
“Everything’s wrong, that’s what.” Liam whispered, and burst into tears, surprising Zayn greatly.
“Liam, tell me what happened.” Zayn attempted to say soothingly, patting him awkwardly on the back as he cried.
“Sophia... she broke up with me.” Liam spluttered, attempting to stop crying, but failing rather miserably.
“Oh, come here.” Zayn sighed, wrapping an arm around his shoulders, letting Liam cry and mumble about how he didn’t understand why. Zayn had no idea either.
“Am I a bad person?” Liam’s words were muffled as his face was covered by his hands.
“Mhm?” Zayn said, completely missing what Liam had said.
“Am I a bad person, Zayn?” Liam repeated.
Zayn looked down at the crying boy, and realised that Liam was only really a boy; a boy that had experienced way too much pain for a soul as pure as his.
“Liam, you are one of the kindest guys that I know.” Zayn said truthfully, smiling slightly.
“Thanks Zayn.” Liam said, smiling at him, tears still in his eyes.
Zayn sighed. He was no better off than Liam now. But at least Liam didn’t run, he fought and tried to continue living his life, he tried to move on.
And Zayn had run away, like a complete and utter coward. He frowned at the thought, but he knew it was true.
The sun was shining pleasantly on him now, and the dirt road didn’t seem so uncomfortable. He yawned and let his eyes close, thinking of Iris standing at the top of the stairs.
“... if you decide to come back here, you come back before it gets dark...”
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Zayn woke suddenly, like someone had thrown a bucket of cold water on him. He struggled to throw off sleep, but became more alert as he saw the colour of the sky.
“Crap.” Zayn hissed, scrambling to his feet.
The sun had set, which meant that very soon the light would fade and it would get dark. He grabbed the car keys from the car and closed the door, and with one wistful glance behind him, he started to walk back up the hill.
The walk up the hill yesterday had been tiring, but today it was only filled with horrible pain. Every time that he twisted his back in an awkward manner, a moan would escape from his slightly parted lips.
It seemed to be getting dark so quickly, and Zayn felt panic rise up in him. He couldn’t walk any faster, and even at his slow place he was tripping over loose stones, tears starting to form in his hazel eyes.
The darkness had started to creep in, the shadows growing ever longer. Zayn started to imagine things hiding behind the trees, waiting until he stopped, and they would pounce-
Zayn realised that he wouldn’t be able to find his way to Iris’s house, which brought more fear than the thought of things hiding behind trees. He had no clue where the parting the trees where, and considering that Zayn was still walking up the hill, he was not close.
“Iris, I need help!” Zayn yelled, falling to the ground, feeling hopelessness engulf him.
“Iris, please!”
He called her name for what felt like forever, until his throat turned bone dry, and all he could do was whisper, his eyes wide open, just waiting.
A light started to grow in the darkness, and Zayn wondered whether he was dead, though the thought seemed ridiculous. Why was he still feeling pain if he was dead?
Zayn realised it was a person holding a candle of some sort, walking slowly towards him. He stared at the person, hoping that they’d reveal themself.
“Please.” Zayn croaked, holding out a hand.
The person knelt down beside him, placing the candle on the ground. The light revealed Iris, her unique blonde hair cascading over her shoulders. She grabbed his hand, and squeezed it tightly, reassuringly.
“It’s alright Zayn, I’m here.”
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it feels so good to update!
i had to make the youtube video on the side because i really wanted the song for this chapter... i don't even know what i'm doing with my life haha >.<
this chapter is dedicated to @wonderrland for her continual and encouraging comments, thank you very much :)
comment and tell me what you think of Iris, and there was even some Ziam there for you guys (don't worry, it won't suddenly turn into a Ziam fan fic).
thanks for the four hundred reads, and have a very lovely day.
Sara xx