THANKS TO ALL MY READERS FOR 80K ON ANGEL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! HERE'S AN UPDATE, FRIENDS
-~-~-~-~-
Anastasia arrived completely exhausted. During the ride home she was mostly silent, just looking out the window thoughtfully. When we got home, she immediately went upstairs and I figured she had a lot on her mind. Zayn hovered over her constantly and maybe it was best that I give her some space, if she needed to talk to someone she'd do it on her own terms and on her own time. I didn't wanna force her to talk to me about what was going on, how could I? I was lucky enough that she felt comfortable around us and that she wasn't being as fussy as Zayn told me she could be. Apparently, she was a real nightmare when she wanted to be. He knew her better than I did, but it was hard to believe that someone as gentle as Anastasia could cause enough trouble that she needed to be restrained. He had told me she had changed a lot, but it only made me curious about her past.
He never spoke about what she was like before she met him. As if those parts of her didn't exist, he refused to tell me about her interests aside from causing trouble and being with him. There was more to her, I noticed it as we walked by a bookstore today and she told me to let her go in alone. I imagine that there was certain things she needed to do alone, since she wasn't exactly used to being around other females. Still, it made me feel kinda bad. The reason she was not open to being close was because she wanted to do things with Zayn, no matter what they may be, and she didn't desire the company of someone else.
It made me think about what would happen if Zayn found someone else upon his return, if he called it quits with her and decided to throw her out of his life. Sure, they were married, and as cynical as it sounded coming from me, marriage wasn't a guarantee that two people would be together forever. I knew Zayn, I knew that if he decided to divorce her it would be his final decision. But what would happen with her? Would she return home and live a life as normal as possible after this whole ordeal? Or would she breakdown much like she was when we found her in Berlin, obliviously covered in her own blood and numbing herself with sleep, cheeks covered in mascara tears? It was not a good thought to have. Just because he loved her now didn't mean he'd love her forever, and for everyone's good, I hoped that it would be the latter. She was much too young to be abandoned in the way she had and surely Zayn knew that he had a responsibility in taking care of her.
"Cara?" I hear Anastasia's voice. Her steps are careful and she's wearing a big sweater, Zayn's, leggings, and some frilly socks. She looks tiny as ever, engulfed in the warm clothing, but appears very tired.
I wonder sometimes if I'll ever see her happy.
"Hey, I thought you were going to sleep?"
I pat the spot on the couch next to me and she sits, looking down at the floor like a scorned child. "I can't go to sleep because I'm scared."
I frown, unsure of what she means. "Well, why are you scared? Of what?"
She looks at me in the eyes and I notice how red they are, dark circles framing them. She clearly isn't sleeping very well and I suspect it's because she has some sort of night terror.
"I'm scared that if I go to sleep, I'll dream that none of this is real," she answers quietly, "I'll dream I'm in New York with Zayn and we're happy... Only to wake up and see that I'm not with him, he's not close to me."
"But that'll go away, you know it will. He's going to come back, you have to trust in that and let it comfort you."
She shakes her head and pulls out a pack of cigarettes from the sweater pocket. Her thin fingers take one out and she holds it between her lips, allowing herself to light it and take a quick puff. "Imagine what it's like to love someone so much that you can't breathe, can't live without them."
I initially want to respond and tell her that I do know, but as I watch her empty expression look out the window, blowing smoke occasionally, I realize that I don't. I adore Kristen, but I know that if we broke up, we'd be friends. I'd never truly be without her because I'd always have her close, with no distance or conflict to divide us forever.
"I used to be so careless," Anastasia confesses to no one in particular, "I went about my life in such a reckless matter, anyone who got in my way... I pushed away. I didn't understand love because I never got it."
I offer her the ashtray nearby and she smiles forcefully. "Something happened when I met Zayn, though. I remember still," she laughs sourly, "I didn't wanna go to dinner with my father's work associates, I never liked those dinners. I saw Zayn come in from the top of the staircase, and everything froze, Cara. I had never felt butterflies, much less felt nervous in front of anyone. And there he was, looking up at me like... I don't know."
"Love at first sight, yeah?" I'm interested in more of the story but I have a feeling she's gonna shut down any minute now.
"I think so. I never felt like Zayn loved me as much as I loved him until I ran away and he let me come back. He was really bad to me, you know. I admit that. He's sometimes really horrible to me and I hate that I always come back to him, no matter what, but God, I fucking love him. I really do. And being without him is the worst agony."
I squeeze her hand. "You were separated for sometime last year, right? What was that like for you? I remember speaking to him everyday and him telling me he wanted to die. It was scary for everyone he associated with."
She looks surprised. "Really?"
I nod. "He was torn up."
"So was I. I didn't do much except drink, vomit, do drugs, and sleep. I couldn't handle being awake so I numbed my existence and when I was asleep, I needed to black out so I wouldn't dream."
The more she spoke, the more the guilt rose up in my chest. I understood that if she had the option to go home and start a life separate from Zayn, she wouldn't, and that even if he wasn't going to come back right away, she'd wait. She'd wait regardless of where she was, because that was the only thing she could do. Eventually, they'd find a way back to each other and perhaps they weren't ideal, but it was too late. Something as intense and real as the love they shared had to be destroyed in the beginning, before they became too invested in each other, when they'd still have a chance to move on. Even then, who knows if they would have had a chance. I doubt it. Because the way they spoke of each other was not in some cheesy, contrived way to make everyone believe they were made for each other. They spoke with full honesty and though it wasn't easy to hear it, they admitted they were utterly wrong for each other. But they were together because they simply couldn't live without each other anymore.
We sat there in silence as she chain smoked, something I found calmed her a lot, though her hands were slightly shaky every time she drew the cigarette to her lips.
"What else does Zayn say about me?" I hear her question. I know she wants to appear indifferent, but her tone is pleading.
"He tells me he loves you, that you're a nightmare."
I hear her laugh for the first time and it leaves the strangest trace. It's the kind of laugh that someone forces out when they've received good news, only that the news is followed by the unfortunate realization that it's the only good news they're getting and the rest of it is not so good.
"I am a nightmare," she says sadly, "does he say much else?"
"You know that he bought this house for you, right? He asks if you like it here, if you enjoy the garden. He tells me a lot about how you really like when he reads to you in the study, that he doesn't like to be in the same room without you being close. It's very cute to hear him in love."
"Was he ever like that with Amy?"
I shake my head immediately. "No, definitely not. He didn't love her and everyone knew it. I don't think he's ever actually loved anyone. He's very detached. He does tell me that he cares about me and stuff, just like he tells his mom. But he's always been clear with his boundaries."
Anastasia looks surprised as she lights another cigarette. "I didn't know that. He didn't really appear that way, though I did find it funny he never wanted to talk about his mom and sister much."
"Yeah, they both don't really talk to him much. Ever since his dad left, I guess his mom wasn't the same. Luckily, she found my dad and found a way to be happy again."
She nods. "Yeah, definitely. Everyone deserves a second chance at happiness."
"You and Zayn do, too."
The younger girl stops mid drag and stares at me, as if my words have just registered and she's not sure they're entirely true. "Yeah, maybe."