Yours Truly

My mom had been serious about my return to London the following morning, and had taken to waking me up barely past 8AM. I tried to shrug her off, but she ripped the covers off, knowing I wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep without them. She brushed my glare off, telling me to shower and that she’d have breakfast on the table when I was out. I pushed myself up, not bothering to check my phone, and took what could have possibly been the longest shower ever. Luckily I had packed one pair of denim shorts in my haste last night, and threw them on with a plain white shirt with the sleeves cuffed.

As promised, there was breakfast on the table, and my mom scooted a cup of tea over to me as soon as I sat down. We ate in silence, neither of us having much to say, and I took extra time in finishing my meal.

“He called me last night,” she stated, making my head snap up to attention, “Right after you went upstairs actually. He said he just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“So why didn’t he call me?” I muttered, poking the eggs on my plate around.

“Because just like you, he’s stubborn and won’t make the first move to get over this fight,” she said pointedly, “But he still cares about you, so he found a way to check on you.”

“I guess I shouldn’t keep him waiting then,” I said, pushing myself up, “Thank You for letting me stay here last night, mum.”

She waved me off, giving me the normal spiel of how I was her daughter, and ushered me to go grab my lone bag. I laughed at her eagerness to get rid of me, making a small crack about it, but collected my stuff before speeding off towards London. The drive to the city took shorter than normal, thanks to my habit of speeding, meaning I had missed most of the normal morning traffic into the city.

I was so caught up in my thoughts of what I was going to say to Zayn, that I didn’t even realize I had parked in front of the sweets shop near the flat. There were a few people walking out, most holding what I assumed to be breakfast pastries, and I knew exactly what I had to get. I tossed on a discarded leather jacket in the backseat, realizing it was Zayn’s as soon as I pulled it on, and walked to the small building in the light drizzle. The old lady smiled at me from behind the counter as I pushed the door open, already moving towards the case I always picked from, and cracked a joke about how I could keep them in business with the amount of stuff I bought. I laughed with her, and made sure to give her a larger tip than normal.

When I got to our building, I turned off the car, and just sat in it thinking. I was so busy gnawing on my lip, that I didn’t see the person approaching my car, and let out an ear piercing screech as they tapped on the window. Bettie’s loud laugh was easily heard through the rolled up windows, and I shot her a glare as I finally pulled the keys from the ignition.

“Christ Bettie, you nearly gave me a heart attack,” I said as she finally caught her breath, “Be a doll and hold these while I get my bag?”

“Sure,” she said, taking the white box delicately, “Wait, bag? You already have your purse.”

“I stayed at my mums last night,” I shrugged, grabbing the small bag from the boot, “Apparently having Liam walk in when I was in some lingerie was my fault, and I’m dumb.”

“He mentioned that,” she laughed, “He was so mortified, and kept apologizing to me and saying how he thought Zayn was going to kill him. Why does that make you dumb?”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” I said, pressing the lift button quickly, “All I know is that I’m sucking up my pride right now, and ending this fight first. Quite a big step if I do say so myself. I mean, the git is even getting his favorite desert out of it, so he better accept my apology.”

Bettie just shook her head at me, passing me the box as the lift reached my floor, and waved me out with a ‘good luck’ falling from her lips. I inhaled sharply as I got to the door, and pushed the door open as slowly as I could. The living room was empty, but the fact that the TV was on made it a dead giveaway that he was somewhere in the flat. I was just about to venture towards the bedroom when he walked out of the kitchen, holding a box identical to the one in my hands. Our eyes met, and without even thinking about it, I rushed over and enveloped him in a hug. His arms locked around my frame, and I was almost positive that it would be impossible to fit even a slip of paper between us. We both mumbled ‘I’m sorry’ to each other over and over again, and it took me a moment to realize that I was crying into the hug.

“Babe, shhh, it’s okay,” he said, pulling away and wiping my cheek with his thumb, “I’m sorry I was such an arse to you last night, it wasn’t your fault at all.”

“I’m sorry I broke a wine glass and threw your strawberries away,” I responded sheepishly, “I bought you some more.”

“Great minds think alike, yeah?” he smiled, motioning to the box he had in his hand, “I felt really bad about breaking that vase, so I got you some more roses and your favorite cupcake.”

I leaned up onto my tip toes, and pressed a small kiss to his lips. The kiss was gentle, but full of passion, and it didn’t take long for the boxes to be discarded on the table, and our hands to be gripping each other tightly. We stayed wrapped up in each other for a few minutes, and only broke apart when our need for air overpowered our need for each other. I let my forehead rest against his, getting lost in his eyes, and tried not to giggle as I gave him an Eskimo kiss quickly. He grinned, reciprocating the action, and nudged me towards the bedroom saying he had a rough night of sleep the night before. I followed him without question, never being one to question a nap, and realized the position of the duvet hadn’t changed since the night before. Zayn slid in quickly, already donning a pair of joggers and a shirt, and I just tossed my shorts and jacket off and cuddled up next to him. I tossed one of my legs over his, and hugged him close with my left arm, letting my hand rest right above his heart.

His fingers immediately laced between mine, and I felt butterflies erupt in my stomach as he fiddled with my ring absentmindedly. I glanced up at him, his eyes already have closed, and smiled at how serene he looked. My lips gently ghosted the underside of his jaw, a place I seemed to kiss a lot right before we slept, and I buried my face into the crook of his neck. His grip tightened around me, pulling my body nearly halfway on top of his, and traced small patterns against my lower spine.

“I thought that maybe the guest room just had a bad mattress, but I’m starting to think that I couldn’t sleep because I knew you weren’t here,” he said softly, making me unbury my face from his neck to look at him.

“Normally I would call you a cheeseball for that statement, but I couldn’t sleep without you either,” I replied, bringing my hand up to brush through his hair.

“You’re free tomorrow, yeah?” he asked, earning a small yes from me, “Let’s make tomorrow just about us. You can join us at the radio interview, which is scheduled to be short, and then we’ll flit off on our own. Sound good?”

“I can’t wait,” I said with a kiss, “Now let’s take that nap you promised, I’m knackered.”