Zayn saw Gemma one day prior to his birthday. It was Saturday, and he was in Half Moon Plumpton, making hot cups of chocolate for the two children who had stepped into the Coffee House that day. It was a rare sight, children, in this place. It was mostly for those who brooded and found solace in silence. Also in the occasional music Zayn put on the speaker from time to time.
He had to thank Fionn, he always forgot to, for he had let Zayn have the bluetooth speaker for eternity, which Zayn had once burrowed for, and quoting, "A day or two."
It wasn't planned, the meeting between him and Gemma. It happened how it mostly did, through a coincidence.
He was pouring tea for Mr. Hudson, the kettle steady in his hands. It wasn't necessary, but Zayn wanted to thank him for showing up early almost all times since they had had that feud, or as Zayn liked to call it, "I don't remember what you're talking about Jimmy, that wasn't me."
The oak door opened, bringing in the chill and Gemma, but Zayn didn't see her at first. He was more concentrated on not spilling the boiling tea on Mr. Hudson, whose hand was curled around the handle of the cup.
"Hi, dad." Her voice reached in his ears. He straightened, a look of surprise on his face. He wasn't expecting to see her before exams. She gave him an acknowledging glance, and quickly went back to addressing her dad. She looked different today. The coat she was wearing was much bigger for her size, but it looked right on her for some reason. Her red hair weren't left unbound, they were half tied, with a white rose tucked just above her knot. He smiled at it, it looked quite elegant.
"I came to drop in the keys."
The tip of her nose was rubicund, and she was sniffing in between her words. The harshness of winter was visible on her cheeks. She was on an edge, something was off about her. That could be why she looked a bit different, but he wasn't sure. Her eyes kept flickering towards him, as if to see his reaction to the conversation taking between her and her father.
He figured, with a pang guilt, that standing there like a statue, he might be intruding in an exchange that was more personal than he realised.
If he was in her place, and Mr. Hudson were his own father, he wouldn't have liked any uninvited friends to witness his unflattering terseness around him. He always held back from being himself around his father, maybe that was why they never connected that much. But Zayn was afraid, he always had been since he gained any senses, that if he did let his guard down, spoke his mind and intentions out loud, they might have never connected at all.
Not that he had to worry about it now.
"Where's Every? When are you coming back?" Mr. Hudson asked with his perpetual frown, which was only getting deeper. Gemma shifted on her feet, her hand sliding in her coat pocket.
"I'll be back by dinner." She provided. Zayn smiled to himself, he used to think she was vague only with him, but apparently she was like this with everyone. "Every's at work, University. She was saying she'll cook today."
Mr. Hudson nodded, a ghost of a smile clearing the grimace off his face. "Don't be late." He added like an afterthought.
"Of course." She said, sending Zayn a quick glance. She took her hand out of the pocket and kept a bundle of keys on the table. "Don't start without me." She added, an impish smile adorning her face.
Mr. Hudson's lips curled up slightly. Zayn was shocked to see that transition, it was the first time he had seen him smile.
"We won't." He said gently, his smile still present, and Zayn felt the invisible wall there had been between him and Gemma crumble. What if there was no wall at all, and it was just Gemma's vagueness that had caused the distance Every was talking about. He didn't want to interfere, but he definitely wanted to know.
Mr. Hudson clearing his throat way louder than it was necessary, that was what made Zayn turn to him. He raised his eyebrows, steam blowing off from the stout of his kettle.
"What are you doing?" Mr. Hudson asked, like he was daring Zayn to answer. But before Zayn could even open his mouth, he spoke again. "Wasn't your shift going to be over? You mustn't be getting late today then, isn't it?"
"I—"
"Stop staring at my daughter." He chided. Gemma eyes looked like they'd come out of their sockets. "Pour the tea and go."
"Of course—" He started to say.
"Dad!" Gemma hissed with indignation at the same time. "He's my friend, how can you—"
"Friend or stranger, doesn't give him a licence to stare at you or anyone." He glared at Zayn. "He's at work." He added reproachfully.
"I can't—"
Zayn fixed his gaze on Gemma, shaking his head so slightly he didn't think she'd understand him. However, she stopped whatever she was going to say, and let Zayn do his job. He poured the rest of tea and left for the kitchen as quick as possible, mumbling a hasty apology for standing there when he had no business to.
Barbara and Lily were quarrelling in the kitchen, mindful of not letting their shrieks be heard out in the house. It was something about the bill and payment counted wrong.
"I'm leaving, Jim is here." Zayn announced over their growing imprecations after he was done putting the tray in the oven. He had washed his hands, dried them with a towel and was in the middle of untying his apron.
"Pay me tomorrow Barbara, it's no biggie." He said, finally removing the apron, and tucking it behind the door. He took his jacket and wore it, taking his beanie in his hand. "I'm getting coffee, cut it from my wage tomorrow." He said lastly before moving out.
Jimmy, the guy on the next shift smiled at him when he came to the counter. Mr. Hudson were sitting alone now, sipping his tea and reading the magazine he always found so intriguing. He felt a tinge of sadness that Gemma wasn't here anymore, but he was leaving in a minute, so there wouldn't have been a point if she had stayed anyway.
"He hasn't paid." He told Jimmy, gesturing at Mr. Hudson and taking a styrofoam cup from the stack. "Keep the tip if he tips any," He shrugged, filling his cup with some regular coffee. "He's generous with those, that man."
"I'll give you the share tomorrow."
"Keep it, it's fine." He said, keeping the cup down. "Barbara is angry. She's shouting at Lily of all people." He felt like it was important to drop that information before he took off. He slid his beanie over his head, covering his ears properly. Outside was cold, although the pale sun was present, but he hadn't brought his car so he didn't know how much he'd have to walk before he gets a taxi.
He left with his hands curled around the cup of coffee. It was cold enough for him to hold it easily, and hot enough to warm his numb fingers. He thought about what he'd do with the rest of his evening. Lucas was busy somewhere, with Gemma or Professor Redon, he was confused between them both now. Whatever it was, that meant he couldn't sit and revise with him. He could do it alone, but he really did not have the will for it. He had been studying all morning, and coming to work— that had put a break in that pace. Now he didn't have it in himself to open a book.
He walked out of the oak door, pulling his beanie down again before the cold could hit him. He shut the door quietly behind himself and turned around.
Gemma was standing just metres away from the Coffee House, the roadside gravel crushing beneath her feet; her hands were stuffed in the pocket of her long coat and she was looking at the sun, which was peeking through the branched trees. Some of their leaves were sodden, yet they were attached to the slender branches. There was still some time left for the sun to disappear deep down the horizon.
She didn't notice him until his footsteps echoed in the thawed snow. She turned around just in time to see Zayn come and stand right beside her.
"I thought you left." He wondered aloud. His voice wasn't able to hide the surprise to have found her standing here.
"I was waiting."
"For whom?" He asked promptly, almost knowing the answer, and took a sip from his coffee.
"You." She said, looking at him intensely and he stopped sipping for once.
"Oh." Words suddenly escaped him. He blinked, frantically trying to search for something to say instead of emitting stupid sounds. "Why?" He managed to ask. He took another sip to hide that he had also suddenly forgotten how to act in her presence.
"Heard your shift was getting over soon." She told him nonchalantly. "So I was waiting to see."
"Oh yeah," He nodded. "It is getting over soon. No, no, I meant it is over, yeah." He laughed nervously, chewing the side of his cup instead of taking a sip this time.
"Weren't you going out with Lucas?"
"Are you free after this?"
They laughed, there words stumbling over each other and not making any sense. Gemma nudged at him to go first, a smile still present on her face.
"I thought you were going out with Lucas, when you told your dad." He spoke, trying to sound unbothered.
Gemma's lips twitched up slightly. "Why'd you think that?"
"Where else would you go?"
She looked away. "I needed some fresh air. I've been studying all day and my head is exploding. I needed a change of environment." She answered truthfully, much to his surprise. "I would ask him but he was busy, and to be honest I wanted to be alone."
Zayn nodded slowly, "Yes, he's with Professor Redon, I suppose." He blew into his coffee softly, then looked at her through his eyelashes. "Why were you waiting for me if you wanted to be alone?"
She smiled at him gently, "I changed my mind." She said, watching him hide his smile behind the rim of his cup. "Are you free then?"
Zayn thought for a moment, his brow furrowing for a bit, but he already knew he wouldn't say no. "What do you have in mind?" He asked her slowly, almost hoping she wouldn't suggest something wild. He wanted to do something that would ease him. He could use a bit of fresh air himself. It had been a long time since the sun had actually radiated a certain warmth, and wasn't a mere star in the sky.
"I was hoping you'd have something, Mr. Explorer guy." She smirked.
"It's been real slow these days, my exploring. I've seen most of Ravenford though, I can tell the ways in my sleep." He grinned dejectedly, having flashbacks of how he had driven for weeks in search of a job.
Gemma sighed, looking around for some moments. "It will get dark soon." She turned back to him. "Come with me." She said, and started walking down the deserted road.
It went to the deeper parts of the woods, leading away from Ravenford, where trees were now barer, lacking beauty.
He fell into step with her, not thinking too much about it. It wasn't like it was the first time he was going there with her, and they couldn't have gone too far with an injured foot and broken will.
They walked together, the sun moving along with them, watching over them as Zayn slowly sipped his coffee, and Gemma got lost in her thoughts. Zayn realised they weren't as naked, the woods. There were wild bushes around, and he occasionally saw winter flowers adorning the scant foliage.
"I'm sorry about dad." Gemma said abruptly. "He can get like that."
"It's all cool." Zayn said in an instant. "It wasn't right to just stand there, I wasn't thinking as much."
Gemma pursed her lips, not convinced even in the slightest bit. In a defeated voice, she said, "He can be over protective of us." glancing sideways at him. "Ever since what happened with Eve, of course I don't blame him, but he can get a little extreme."
"It wasn't extreme. I get it." He said gently, taking another sip. "I respect her a lot." He said after swallowing it down.
"Every?"
He nodded, "I don't think she realises that." He said, chancing a look at Gemma's face. He had found it really brave, for Every to admit the mistakes she had done in the past, and the fact that she had been trying to move on from them ever since. He hadn't told her that, but he hoped she knew. "Whatever happens, Gemma, don't ever stop telling her what's on your mind, never refuse to communicate, because then she'd assume, and assumptions are destructive."
Gemma pulled up short. "Did she tell you something?"
Zayn looked over at her, "Nothing that you don't know Gems." He said, his eyes kind.
"I never want to hurt her." Gemma said, a certain desperation in her voice. "I really never want to be the person who hurts her."
"You can't control that." Zayn spoke against his will. He smiled ruefully, and dropped his gaze, trying to collect his thoughts before he said them aloud. Trying to suppress the guilt that oozed with it. "You think you never want to hurt someone, but then you do, and then what do you do about it? It took me a lot of time to understand that it's better to confront them than assume and stay in your bubble. You think you hurt someone, and maybe you have, but it would be so much easier if you talk to them about it— instead of just wallowing in self pity."
Gemma stared at him, nodding slowly after that. It felt like she understood him, her silence being answer enough. "Have you hurt someone?" She asked then, catching Zayn off guard.
Zayn stared at her, "Obviously." He said after a moment.
"It's hard to imagine." Gemma replied, watching him like she knew everything about him.
She didn't.
"That's why reality always hits harder." He turned away, starting to walk again.
They had only walked a few metres when Zayn realised Gemma was still staring at him. He glanced at her, downing the last few sips in a tick. "What?"
"How much coffee do you drink?"
"I don't count." He said dismissively, checking the cup for a few drops.
"Have you ever stopped to think that maybe you're addicted to it?"
Zayn sent her glance, trying to make his face humourless. "Have you ever stopped to think that maybe coffee is the one that's addicted to me?" He asked instead, earning a laugh from Gemma. He crushed the cup cautiously and stuffed it in his pocket.
"I wouldn't be surprised then." Gemma said between a chuckle. "It doesn't take long for that to happen."
"What—" He started, but was interrupted by a loud gasp that came from her. She stared past his shoulder and then scurried across the road. Zayn followed her, watching her fuss over the flowers that were flanking the side of the road.
"These are called Heathers." She said when Zayn came to stand at her side. "These are one of the flowers I actually know the name of—"
"Don't you own a florist shop?" He asked, chuckling. Gemma plucked a few heathers and handed it to him. He took them without asking much, his eyes just trained on her face. Her eyes had a glint and her lips a small smile, now that she was amongst one of her favourite flowers.
"I don't own it." She answered distractedly, moving to take some more flowers, plucking them gently with the stem they were growing with. The little snow fell off from the branches when she did that, attaching itself in her hair. They weren't the same flowers, but Gemma didn't tell him their name, and neither did he ask. He was busy trying to stop himself from brushing the snow off her hair. "I just work in a florist shop. It was ours, at one point— it's not anymore, but I'll make it ours soon, it's just a matter of time."
"What do you mean?"
Gemma plucked one last flower and turned to him. "Means I'll make it mine soon enough. It was ours, Mom used to work there, but then Dad sold it." She handed him the rest of the flowers, and took some in her half gloved hands.
"Why?" Zayn asked when they started walking again.
Gemma shrugged lightly, "Maybe he didn’t see any use in it. We were going through some financial crisis."
"Oh, I understand." He said quietly, not knowing what else to say. "So is this your ultimate plan?"
"Getting the florist shop back?" Gemma asked rhetorically, then nodded. "I'm saving money through the years. Whatever I earn from working in the shop, I'm saving it until I can file a case against the owner. Its illegally bought, I know it, dad were really desperate about it then. I'm getting it back, and then I'll have my own shop and live happily ever after."
Zayn smiled at her, she was making something with the flowers, but he couldn't bring himself to notice what. He was distracted by the look in her eyes, the same wilderness held in them that he had seen the first time he had met her. "Why are you majoring in History if you want to make this your career?"
She looked at him, and took a few flowers from his hands. "Knowledge is very important, Zayn." She said with a serious look in her eyes. "I think you understand that more than I do." She said, and Zayn looked away, feeling like she could actually see through him.
"Look at me."
He did. Gemma was now holding a flower crown, an impish smile on her face. The wild glint wasn't gone from her eyes. Zayn was still not over gawking at the crown she had made of those flowers. She took his beanie off, ruffled his hair before he could say anything about it, or whine even at the lack of warmth. She placed the crown there, caressing his hair with delicate fingers.
He watched her doe eyed, still a bit shocked at the sudden closeness and how cold her fingers felt when they accidentally grazed his face, while she fixed the crown on his head.
She took step back, gauging how it looked on him. "It's pretty." She said with a dreamy look on her face.
"Is it?" He tilted his head, doubting if she means it from the dazed tone of her voice.
"Yes, oh god, wait! Don't move your head." She took her phone out of her coat pocket. "Stand right there, let the sunlight fall on your face."
"Gems, you're not serious."
"Shut up, nerd, you look fantastic." She said, and snapped a picture. He chuckled, and she clicked another one. He could feel the heat creeping up on his ears, and debated wearing his beanie before Gemma could notice and probably make fun of it, but she was immersed in admiring the pic she had clicked, so he thought he'll be saved from the embarrassment.
"Where did you learn to make it?" He asked her, touching the crown tentatively. He almost knew the answer to the question, all the flowers he had seen in her yard when he had gone to her home once, that had to play a big part in everything. He wondered if she used those flowers in the shop, or if they were just for her mother to tend, and put in her daughter's hair.
Gemma didn't look up from her phone for some moments, and when she did, her smile had faltered slightly. "I have someplace we can go to." She said then, her eyes shining, the dipping sun reflecting in them.
.
"This is a cemetery." Zayn deadpanned, overlooking the headstones he could see from here. They hadn't walked for long before Gemma had steered him inside the woods, on a narrow gravelly path where his foot had screamed hundred times to stop. She had been quiet through most of their journey here, refusing to tell him where her someplace to go was. He had quietly followed her then, giving up on asking when he wasn't getting any response.
Now they were standing here, looking down on a burial ground from the top of the hillside. He could see the steps they would have to descend to actually get down there, but he didn't think Gemma was planning to do that. And if she did, he would have to tell her his foot needs to be amputated before he does anything like that.
"What an observation." Gemma said, the dim sunlight giving a sheen on her face. "I'm blown away."
Zayn rolled his eyes. "We're going down there?"
Gemma smirked. "Why, are you scared?"
A fire erupted in his chest, lighting his ego quite vigorously. "Well, as a matter of fact, I'm not." He said, lifting his chin up slightly. "I always wanted to see one."
"Come with me, then."
"Going in a cemetery, and with you, that doesn't sound like an intellectual decision."
"Don't you trust me?" She asked him.
"Not at all." He said, tucking his smile away.
She suppressed her smile too. "You'd have to take the risk for me then." She said quietly, looking him in the eyes.
Zayn couldn't bring himself to look away. "What can I say," He said, his voice light and filled with a certain mirth. "For you, a thousand times over."
Gemma's lips twitched up slightly, but she walked down the steps before her face could betray her. Zayn stepped down with her, throwing caution to the wind, a smile lingering on his face.
"When will you stop quoting books at me?" She asked him, her boots clattering on the stoned steps.
"When you admit you read them too."
Gemma pulled her brows, "I don't read books." She replied, too promptly for Zayn to not think otherwise.
"Then how do you know it's a quote without having read them?" said Zayn, watching her frown get deeper, knowing he had won this time too when she didn't counter him. "I told you I'll figure you out."
She shook her head as they stepped down the last step. "You're just mental."
"You're the one who brought me to a cemetery." He said, and looked around. The sun had melted a lot of snow down here too. The headstones were clearer here, the snow settled on them was starting to thaw as well. It wasn't as gloomy down here as he thought it would be, it could be the setting sun that was giving him the courage, or maybe Gemma's presence beside him as they walked further in.
He read the headstones on which the snow wasn't pasted, on which the epitaphs and names were easily readable. Some of the quotes he recognised, some were poems he had read through the years, and some were fresh lines he wanted to copy if he had a notebook with himself.
Gemma called him then, and he turned to see her standing before a headstone, her eyes trained on it. He came to stand by her, and followed her gaze. The headstone was squared, the snow settled around and on it. Gemma sat down, knees digging in the ground and removed her glove.
She wiped the snow with her hand, brushing the silver flakes off the stone. "I was coming here the night I met you." She said suddenly. He sat on his knees as well. "I missed the junction that leads here and got lost, crashed my scooter." She chuckled softly, not rupturing the serenity of the place. She looked at him, "I don't think I ever thanked you genuinely. You really saved my life that night, I was proper scared."
"It's okay." He chuckled, and looked at the name engraved on the stone. Roslyn, it read, and he couldn't help but think how beautiful the name was. "Who is this?"
"My mom."
He looked round at her, eyes wide and heart suddenly sinking. He was grateful she was looking at the stone and not him, and he had time to recover from the shock. But he never really recovered. When he finally spoke, his voice almost didn't come out.
"I'm sorry." He breathed, his eyes still wide as he watched her. He didn't know what else to say. How did he not know?
"It's fine." She said gently, glancing at him. "It's fine, really." She said again, and it must have been Zayn's inability to hide his shock that she had to repeat that. "It's been years."
"That doesn't mean anything." He said before he could stop himself. It felt like someone had put a weight on his chest. "More the time means less the grief, it doesn't work like that." How was he ever supposed to heave this weight now? How could he be so ignorant? How had he simply assumed everything? He had said it himself, assumptions were destructive, and he was feeling the impact of it now.
Gemma stared at him, her gaze rather soft than intense. "I never knew her." She dropped her gaze, and looked at the stone. "Could you—" She gestured at the flower tucked in her hair. Zayn straightened, mumbling an of course.
His nimble fingers worked delicately to take the white rose out, "Here." He gave it to her and she laid it on her mother's grave.
He could have brought something to give her if he had known, but then, he hadn't known so many things. He couldn't see anything in the graveyard that wasn't lifeless except for him and Gemma. Suddenly, he remembered his flower crown. He took it off, and laid it beside her rose.
She smiled at him when he sat back, his legs now crossed. He didn't want to leave if Gemma was planning that and he hoped his stance gave her the message, even when the sun was now quite low behind the hill, and it was getting dark, red streaks painted across the sky. For a moment he thought he'd say something funny, diffuse the tension, tell her how the sky resembles her hair, but he realised there wasn't any tension between them. It was just him, and his weighing heart feeling all the pressure.
He wondered if that was what Gemma was feeling, but was practiced enough to not let it show. He kept his hand on hers then, wondering if he could take some pain away.
"I learnt it from her, how to make things with flowers. I found a manual in dad's cupboard, it has all her tricks." She told him. "I think I get it from her, my love for them." She laughed sourly. "That's why dad doesn't want to help me getting the shop back, too much of a reminder I'll be of mom otherwise."
"I'm sure that's not true."
"I look a lot like her, except for the freckles, she didn't have them." She forced a chuckle. Zayn was starting to think all of the laughter until now had been forced. "I remind him too much of her already."
Zayn squeezed her hand, causing her to look at him. "I think he loves you more because of that."
"I don't think that's true." She shook her head and looked up. "I'm really a splitting image of her." She said quietly to the sky.
"Then she must have been beautiful." He said, looking up at the darkening sky as well, and not until she squeezed his hand back did he realise, he'd been holding hers all this time. And in that moment, he fell for her a little bit more than he'd admit.
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Thoughts?
I feel like you guys knew about her Mom, but tell me all your thoughts please!
Thank you so much for reading!
Zayn and Gemma? What do you think?
Love,
Tina