Passion '2 (15+)

"Remember when I promised to love you forever?"

"Yes?"

"Forever isn't over yet."

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56. Worried

 

A knock on the door ripped her out of her thoughts, and anger against herself. "Em, I can hear you're not showering anymore, I was wondering if you wanted to go down to get a drink?" Harry shouted from the outside. He was tripping from foot to foot, hoping that he hadn't disturbed her. "That sounds great, I'll be ready in a minute!" She shouted back, and fast turned around, and kneeled down on the floor to grab her clothes. She had thrown the old underwear in the bucket with dirty clothes, that Harry had in the laundry room, and had picked some new to after the shower. She pulled the undies on, without dropping the towel, just incase that Harry would come in. But Harry was not outside, he was busy trying to find his phone, cause the ringtone was sounding all over the flat. 

She put on some of her spray deodorant, some mascara, a little powder, rouge and then she put the bra on, squeezed down into her tight black jeans, but didn't put on a shirt. She wrapped the towel around the upper parts of her body, and slowly opened the door. To her big relief Harry wasn't there. So she tiptoed into his room, where a mattress was lying, made up for tonight, and where her bag stood. She searched through the bag, to find a white silk shirt, that she put on, and then she grabbed a pair of black socks, and folded the towel, while leaving it on her pillow. She walked out of the room, and found Harry talking on the phone, in the middle of his huge living room. Emily stopped before Harry noticed her, and held her breath. "I don't know. I mean... yeah, maybe you should check up on him, I mean, it's not like him to do like that, not without telling anyone."

 

Emily's P.O.V:

 

At first I was confused about who he could be talking to, a little voice in the back of my mind whispered; Zayn, but I didn't want that, so I pushed it out of my head. But who was the person they were talking about? Maybe that was Zayn. I took silent deep breaths, but I didn't get to listen for very long before Harry turned around, and saw me. "Um, Lou, I've got to go. See ya?" Harry mumbled. Louis. What a relief. He hang up, slipped the phone down in his pocket and looked at me with a smile. "Are you sure that you wanna go and get a drink? I mean, we can stay here if you want... After James, I mean... You're not okay, and if-" I interrupted him by raising my hand, in a way of making him shut up. 
"I want to. I'm not okay, but I'm not gonna cry about either, so let's go..." 
Harry seemed happy with my answer. In not many minutes we were walking side by side down the street. The weather was freezing, and the wind made me wrap my coat more around my body. I should've picked my winter jacket, not my coat. It was almost the middle of November, and I couldn't remember the weather being so cold and wet. It was not raining badly when we were walking down the street, only drops fell from the sky. "The local?" Harry asked. "Ehh... Where you usually go?" I tried. I glanced at him, and could see a smile grow on his lips. "That's over there," He pointed across the street, at a pub where you could hear people talking from inside. 

 

No one's P.O.V:

 

The next five days passed with Emily sitting on her laptop, putting the house for sale, and contacting friends and neighbours. She was trying not to annoy Harry, which was easy. Harry enjoyed having her staying, he said that she was great company. Sometimes Harry mentioned Zayn, but only because he hadn't showed up at work the past days. Emily was trying not to worry about that, cause she was busy enough worrying about how to make her life work again. She searched for small apartments in London, but most of them were extremely expensive. She had just quit her job, and was still searching for a new one, but before that she wouldn't be able to afford to live in London. London was an extremely expensive place to live, if you wanted to live in the city. One night Harry and Emily was sitting on the couch, with a computer each, searching for small apartments where she could live. "What about this?" Harry said, and turned the laptop, so that she could see. It seemed like a nice place, and the pictures from inside were nice enough. It was terribly small, but she couldn't afford any bigger. "I know it's small but... Hey," Harry's all of sudden raise of his voice, made her look away from the screen and up at him. "I could give you some money, and then you could get a job, and you could afford to live there, or in the other apartments we've checked out?" His eyes were shining, like he just had gotten an amazing idea, but she just shook her head and laughed. "No way. It's me who messed up, and I need to lie in the bed I've made." She was not kidding, at all. There was no possible way that she would let Harry help her paying. 

 

 

Zayn was once again sitting on the couch, drinking his brains out. It was the only way he could get some sleep. Cause if he wasn't drunk enough to pass out, his brain was filling his head with pictures of her, and he couldn't bear that. He was lying down, with a cigarette between his lips. Today he didn't want the shot glasses, he just drank right from a vodka bottle. Or another of the bottles that he had found in the kitchen. The Jack D bottle from the other day was lying on the floor, along with plenty of empty beer cans. He took a puff of the cigarette inhaled, removed the cigarette and exhaled. On the speakers The Script were playing, their old songs. Zayn's eyes were closed, he had bags under his eyes, and his cheeks were unshaved, still he looked attractive. That was the thing with Zayn, not matter how wasted he looked, he always looked good. He had a blanket on his legs, cause he had removed it from the top of his body. He was wearing some sweatpants and a black t-shirt. The flat didn't smell bad, it smelled weird. Neither did it smell fresh. The air felt thick, and there was smoke in the air, the smell of alcohol was hanging in the room, along with a bit sweeter smell. A smell that Zayn hadn't been close to the past many months, only every now and then, but now it was back, and he felt like he needed it. The smell of joints. Smoked joints, and unsmoked joints were lying on the coffee table, along with his normal cigarettes. He was not crying, he hadn't been crying at all. He just felt out of happiness, like she had kicked him to the dirt. He sang a little along to the lyric of the song that was playing. It was not playing loud, but loud enough to make it's way into his mind: 

By leaving my door open, I'm risking everything I own. 
But there's nothing I can lose in the break-in that you haven't taken. 

 

He mumbled a little more along with the lyrics, and then he drank some more right from the bottle. His words were slurred, but he didn't realise it. He clumsily tried to place the bottle of vodka on the coffee table, but ended up lying it down, so that the liquid spilled out, and ran down over the edge of the table, and down on the carpet. He couldn't care less. He just took a puff of his cigarette, then he flicked it over the table, and threw it there, so that it rolled a little until it was lying still. He yawned loudly, and could feel his eyelids getting heavier. Soon he was lying with right arm hanging down from the couch, and the other one lying on his stomach. 

 

 

"Should we knock?" Niall asked, and looked at Louis. "I don't know, try to see if the door is open," Louis answered. They both looked worried, and there was a good reason to be. Their best friend hadn't showed up at work any of the past five days, and he neither did he answer their calls or texts. Niall had been so nervous and worried that the boys had needed go calm him down. He was usually the one that came up with weird things that could've happened, like Zayn could've tripped over a shoe and died, or something like that. Niall's hand was shaking a little when the pulled the cold gold handle down, and the door opened with a slight click. His eyes fast wandered back to Louis, that nodded in a way of saying 'walk in'. When they were standing in the hall, they both wrinkled their noses. What was that weird smell? "Z-Zayn?" Niall called out. His voice sounded small, and scared. He seemed like a little boy when he stood there. Louis tried to calm him down by smiling a little smile at him. Louis was going out of his mind as well, "Zayn?" He shouted, but there was not any reply. He could hear music playing, so he had to be home, as far as he could tell it was The Script. After standing in the hall for some long seconds, the smell started to make sense to both of the boys. The smoke was not hard to guess, but Zayn didn't smoke inside, so why did it smell so much of cigarette smoke? And what was that sweet and warm smell? They glanced at each other and took a few steps forward, until they could see the living room. Louis was the one to see their friend lying on the couch. He could only see Zayn's foot, and the things on the coffee table. "Shit!" Louis mumbled, and all of sudden their mysterious little 'be silent' game was over. He rushed over the the couch, around it and grabbed his friends shoulders. Niall followed him. The room was a mess, and their friend didn't loom good either. "Fuckfuckfuck," Niall mumbled, and looked around. His eyes stopped at the joints on the table, and he pressed his lips together to a hard and thin line. "Zayn, Zayn! Wake up!" Louis yelled, as he was shaking Zayn's lazy body. The only sound that escaped Zayn's lips was a groan, and then he rolled around, trying to get Louis' hands of him, but Louis didn't give up. "Get some water, Niall!" He ordered, and looked up at the blonde guy. "Sure, sure, of course," Niall mumbled to himself and rushed across the room, and was soon in the kitchen. He opened up all the drawers and stuff, until he found a pot that he filled with icecold water, and then he carried it back to Louis. The pot was heavy, so it didn't go fast, but when he reached Louis, Louis thanked him, and was about to reach out for it, but Niall didn't want to waste any time, so he just threw the water all over Zayn, that opened his eyes and gasped. 

Louis and Niall breathed out in relief. Thank god.

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