Zayn's POV
3 Days. Three Full Goddamn Days.
Not even a single reply to my 12 texts and 3 calls!
What happened?
I swear, I want to fly back to Bradford and see what's up with her. I really hope she's fine.
Did something happen to her? That almost broke something inside me.
But why do I care? I need to stop thinking about her. I haven't barely decided a single song of my next album and it's almost November.
I stare at my phone, scanning it as I see Gigi's name at the top of the screen.
For the paparazzi, I had to pair up with someone and an American Model like her would do a great job according to the management head.
It's almost boring to do all this acting. Indeed Gigi is beautiful and all but she doesn't have the type of intelligence I want in a girl. I want a girl with a sense of humor, sensible humor like Iris.
And here I am, thinking about her, yet again, when I decided to stop barely a minute ago.
Gigi might be the A1 grader in her childhood. But that's not what I look for in a girl. I want one with witty comebacks and just natural intelligence about how to react to situations and about what's the best thing to do.
I decided to text the one I was thinking about while composing all that. She ain't replying but trying won't hurt.
*
Me : Iris, are you okay? Is everything fine?
*
After a couple of minutes, I was about to get up from the couch to get something to eat when,
*Poing*
I almost jumped with happiness, a stupid smile never leaving my face. I bet a hundred dollars that I looked like a schoolgirl who just got a text from her crush.
*
Iris : Yeah
Me : You sure? Where were you the last 3 days? Why did you call? Is everything okay?
Iris : Yeah
Me : Iris, do not lie. I can catch that. You never really reply with one word.
Iris : Yeah
Me : IRIS? Are you even reading what I'm texting you or just typing in 'yeah'? What's the matter?
Iris : Yeah
Me : IRIS LISTEN, WHAT HAPPENED?
Iris : Yeah
Iris : Uhm, nothing. Sorry. I was a bit busy. I was thinking something and dozed out, you know.
Me : No! I don't know! Because you aren't telling me that what in the hell happened!
Iris : Yeah, I'll talk to you later Nyaz
Me : You better
Iris : Bye
Me : Bye
*
That was awkward. She wasn't very happy. Or sad. Or angry. Or anything. She almost sounded vulnerable.
Gosh, I sound like a lovesick puppy.
My conscience mentally facepalm it's imaginary face, yet again.
But one thing, I need to say.
Iris is a mystery, one difficult shit for even Holmes himself.
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