Lucas woke up to the sound of books falling, followed by a string of curses spewing from Zayn's mouth.
He pushed the blanket down his face and blinked in darkness. There was still some time for the dawn to break, the room was pitched and damp from the chill. The drawn curtain of the window fluttered in the wind, although Lucas wasn’t sure why.
He propped himself on his elbows and looked around. The table lamp was switched on, books and papers were scattered on the desk. He found Zayn sitting on the edge of his bed, clutching his foot with a grimace on his face.
"What’s wrong?" Lucas asked, his voice groggy. He looked at the window again, the cold air sending chills on his exposed skin. He suddenly realised it was open. He blinked hard to adjust to the dim light in the dorm. "What’s with this?"
Zayn turned around to look at him. He crossed his legs, one hand still clutching his foot. "Go back to sleep, Luke." He waved his hand dismissively. "Its really early."
Lucas coughed, and sat up straight, slumping against the headboard. "What are you doing up, are you alright?" Zayn was massaging his foot now, or what it seemed he was doing in the apparent light. Lucas pulled the blanket to cover his chest and arms, glancing at the window again. "Why’s the window open?"
Zayn stayed quiet. He stretched his leg and circled his foot in the air, when it seemed alright he got up and limped across Lucas’ bed to draw the curtain open. It revealed an unhinged window, hanging precariously by one hinge Zayn definitely seemed to have struggled with.
"Alright, alright, I get it, close the curtain, I’m dying." Lucas said, covering himself more with the blanket. He heard a strangled laugh from Zayn as he limped back to bed. "What happened?"
"There must have been a blizzard."
"Overnight?" Lucas asked looking over at Zayn, and shuddered.
Zayn shrugged. "Seems so. It’s all white outside."
"Is that what woke you up?"
"No, I woke up on my own," Zayn said and went towards the desk. "Found it almost falling off." He said. He placed a pencil between the pages and closed the book, sinking down in the chair. He looked over to Lucas and scratched his cheek.
"I don’t think it was that aggressive, otherwise we would have woken up. I think George would have come up, yeah? Must have been the old age of this window to be honest, everything is so old here." He laughed. "That’s why George keeps shouting about the door. It’s going to come off too."
Lucas laughed loudly, and pulled the blanket above himself again. He was shivering from the cold, his teeth almost clattering.
"Should I get you something?" Zayn asked with concern. He started to get up, "Wait, I’ll get you another—"
"Zayn, they wouldn’t be dried yet." Lucas whined, like it was someone else’s fault. "I washed them last night."
Zayn looked squarely at Lucas, "You washed them?" He asked, already bracing himself to yell. He saw Lucas nod and groaned out loud. "Are you a gone case, Luke? I have told you so many times not to pile your laundry that way! You washed all of them together?"
"Yeah!"
"What ‘Yeah!’," Zayn glared at him, getting up to get to the closet. "Nothing to be proud of. Now, did you wash all of your clothes or just the woollen ones?"
"Just the woollen ones."
"Alright." Zayn said forcefully and entered the closet door. "You take mine today. That’s a good thing though, you learned a lesson, manage your laundry better next time." He came out limping, throwing a grey jumper at Lucas’ face.
Lucas wore it without wasting time, covering himself up with the blanket yet again. "Why are you walking like this?" He asked Zayn, seeing him sit on the chair. Zayn put both his legs on edge of the table and propped a book on his stomach, the light from the table lamp was enough for him to see. He had years of practice anyway.
He took the glasses from the table, examining them under the light and scrunching his nose. He rubbed them on his jumper and examined them again, squinting his eyes. "It was dark, I hadn't turned on any light other than this table lamp." Zayn said, pushing the glasses up the bridge of his nose. "And I couldn't see where I was going and stubbed my toe."
"Wow."
"Yeah, and then my books fell on it so it's gone, my foot."
"That's amazing." Lucas remarked, and looked at the window, it's hinges were visible through the fluttering curtain. "Wait, were you studying?" He asked, looking around at Zayn, who was writing something now.
"Yeah." Zayn said, without looking up.
"You have been waking up early since some days," Lucas acknowledged, a small smile on his lips. "Is it just to study? Until the exams?"
"No, not really." He said, lingering his gaze on Lucas. He looked reluctant to talk about it, but Lucas wasn't that very considerate about other's privacy and reservedness. He kept his gaze expectant and unwavering. Zayn caved in. "I'm just—well, I'm just trying to find some routine for myself, that is all." He said finally.
"Oh." Lucas faltered, he didn't know what he was expecting, but the answer was more sober than he thought it would be. "Good luck, I suppose, I'm going back to sleep."
"Yes, that's for the best."
"Can't agree more." said Lucas and turned his back at Zayn. "Good night, Zaynie boy." He said before pulling the blanket over his head.
"Wha—" Zayn's head whipped around, "Good night." He said with a sigh, hearing Lucas feigning a snore, louder than it was necessary.
.
"HEY!"
Zayn looked up from his book, the fork stopping halfway from his mouth. Every towered above him, shadowing the scant sunshine coming through the window, and looking rather uncomfortable standing with her books pressed to her chest.
Zayn hastily shuffled in his seat, not wanting to make her wait anymore. He was all over the place, his earphones were tucked in, music blaring in his ears so he could drown all the white noise of screeching chairs and students muttering in much higher decibels than what was the limit of human ears. His book was opened in his lap, his glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose, and his lunch was getting cold too.
In his haste, he yanked the earphones out, by god's grace not ruining the earpiece and kept his fork down, standing up with his chair screeching loudly on the floor.
First thing that happened was his book falling off his lap, landing on his feet with a thud. He stifled a scream, squeezing his eyes shut. Second thing that added fuel in his burning embarrassment was him bending to remove the weight from his hurt leg, and colliding head first with Every, who had decided to do the same.
"Ouch, sorry, I'll—" He hunched again, trying to get the book, but Every bent down with him. "Oh, sorry." He straighted immediately, seeing Every do the same. "Eve—" He started to bend down, his leg screaming in pain.
Every held him by his shoulder. "Zayn." She chuckled half heartedly. "Let me, okay? I'll get it, you're obviously in other world." She said, and massaged her forehead, bending down and retrieving the book.
"Here." She handed him the book, glancing down at his feet. "I'll just—I'll just sit there, you get settled, okay? I'll just—" She stopped and went to sit across Zayn. "I'm good here." She sat down, gazing Zayn with a certain anger in her eyes.
Zayn swallowed, and sank in his chair slowly. He shoved his earphones away in the bag that hung on the chair, his phone and his book with it. He turned back to Every, she was sitting with her chin resting on her palm, her eyes watching the snow outside.
Her hair were getting longer again, the tips so dark they were almost blue.
"You're not getting lunch?"
Her eyes lingered back to him, iridescent and suddenly impenetrable. "I'm not hungry." She mouthed.
"Oh, well, well then, that's okay, of course." He said, picking up his fork. "I'll—I'll get back on mine." He said and looked away.
He jabbed the fork on the mashed potato and scooped some up, circling it in the air. He took a bite, groaning to himself at how cold it had gotten.
Swallowing it with a swig of water, he looked at Every again. She was looking at him with a small smile, which gave a good boost to his confidence. Suddenly it dawned on him that maybe Every wasn't angry at all, however cold she was being at this time. He wasn't even sure if that was true, or if he was only imagining her aloofness. He smiled back suspiciously, testing the waters. He took another bite and raised his eyebrows when she didn't stop smiling.
Every chuckled. "Nothing."
"You're acting really weird." He said, picking the glass of water.
"I'm not acting weird." She said, sitting straight now, both her gloved hands resting on her books. "You are, kind of, if I'm fair. Not weird I think, only different."
He took another sip, and kept the glass down. "Yeah?"
"Yes, I called you fifteen times before you realised it, just for the record." She smirked. "And then, what do I see here, Zayn Malik is here before any of us, he's eating his lunch, the entire lunch the Mess provided."
He hid his smile behind the rim of the glass.
"Yes, and he's eating and listening to music at the same time, not just that, but also studying. Multitasking, and doing it so efficiently." She took an empty glass, and filled it with water from the jug. "Until I came and ruined all the sorcery, that is."
"Have you started taking leg pulling classes from your sister?"
She took a sip. "I'm just very impressed."
"You're not funny."
"No, really." She said seriously then, keeping the glass down. "Seeing you not skip meals or just eat soup all the time, this gives me immense happiness." She wiped her mouth, giving him another smile.
Zayn chuckled, "I should give you a heads up then, I didn't skip my breakfast as well, and the dinner last night and the meals before that." He said, taking another bite.
"That's just beautiful."
He smiled, and looked down, picking at the peas. He didn't like peas all that much, but he had promised himself he wouldn't leave or waste anything. He had already taken less.
There was a solution to everything, he had read it somewhere, but never quite followed. After the failed call with his mom, he had realised one thing. He wasn't going back.
It was overwhelming, that knowledge. Heavy and painful. He wasn't going back to his home. A part of him had always hoped, had known even, that he could do it anytime, return to Bradford again and live the same old life he had been living. He could get everything back. His own toxic comfort. He hadn't realised the courage it would take him to do any of it.
He was sitting in the balcony that day, the snow was falling, small flakes adoring the earth. He could have fallen asleep. He was drained from all the work in the Coffee House. Apparently, people liked to celebrate the day after New year's with a lot of tea and blue muffins. There had been such rush at the shop, with the other workers on leave, Barbara was sure extracting all the energy he had in him.
Night was falling, minutes dragging by, his eyes were drooping when it hit him with a jolt. He was wasting everything. The sacrifice he had made, if it was a sacrifice at all. The chances he took, the stakes he had overcome. He was wasting them by living like this. Life had given him another chance. He was here, he was in Ravenford, studying the only thing he had ever wanted to, with the best teachers he could ask for. He had people around him who cared for him, loved him. Accepted him for who he was, who he was becoming.
What chains were holding him back now? What excuse could he give to the universe, what complaint did he have?
That he didn't have a confirmation yet, a green signal, an assurance if he was on the right path?
He ran from home, what more wrong paths could there be. What was he scared of now? Living?
The guilt was strong, and it was laden with the mistakes he had made, knowingly and unknowingly. But it was all past now.
He had been miserable because he never got what he wanted. He was miserable now because he left everything that held him from getting what he wanted.
He almost laughed.
Years of living like a ghost. And when he finally made the decision to get out of it, he was missing the hollowness of that ghostly existence he was accustomed to.
"I am not able to understand anything that's happening." He said to the twilight, his legs stretching towards the vast sky, sitting alone on the balcony floor. "Just because, just because I am thinking of what could have been."
He could have been more open, more talkative, more confident but he wasn't. He could have talked to his parents, made them understand everything he wanted, but that hadn't been. He hadn't done that. He had made that choice.
Everything was on him, after all. Whatever had been the fuel for it, he had been the one to light up the fire in the end.
What was the point of regret.
He had to change. He wasn't going back. Not to his home, not to that mortifying self that killed him everyday with its actions. He wasn't going back.
Maybe he had needed an assurance, a sign from the universe that never did come, but he couldn't wait more now. He hadn't waited for a sign before running away, had he? He wasn't a child anymore. He had made a choice, he was living with the consequences.
He got up from his spot, feeling like he had been sitting for days. He accepted it then, the consequences he'd bear. What was the point of regret?
He wasn't going back home and it was okay. He could make more homes.
It was breaking his heart, the missing warmth of his mom and the required harshness of his dad, but what would be a heart if it didn't have it's scars?
The solution was in the little things, not in the sign from the universe, no angel was coming from the heavens to help him. The books were not always right sometimes, there wasn't always a helping hand guiding you on the path. There wasn't a special someone coming to pick up your broken pieces.
Some paths you treaded alone, some journeys only you could guide yourself through. No one else.
He found his solution in that, little things that made his life difficult, he could change them. He could start again. Things like sleeping late, skipping his meals because he sought the taste of his mother's hands. Those little things that bothered him, but he never considered coming out of them. Maybe these little changes could breathe more life into him than those drastic changes had failed to do altogether.
He had found solution in that.
When Every smiled at him, a smile that was soft and now familiar, he felt like she could read him, but he was okay with that too.
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thoughts?
Short chapter actually.
I'll update next pretty soon cause it's like a bit continuation of it.
Tell me the mistakes, please
Vote and such if you liked the chapter :)
Love,
Tina