Passion '2 (15+)

"Remember when I promised to love you forever?"

"Yes?"

"Forever isn't over yet."

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13. Wrong

It didn't take long till' Zayn came walking flawlessly into the living him. The floor cracked a little under his weight, and I turned my head. He was carrying two cocktails, one in each hand. They had a slight pink color. He sat down on the Zebra skin chair, in front of me. 

"So whatcha thinkin'?" He asked, and I looked around in the room again. "It is beautiful. I love it."

"Yeah, but it's smaller than my last flat," He smiled and handed me the glass, which I happily took. 

"I like that. And the pictures..." I glanced on the pictures of his family and friends hanging over the flatscreen. "I just like having them near me all the time." He confessed, and took a sip of his drink. 

"I like the art pictures as well." 

He just nod. 

I moved the glass to my lips as well, and took a sip. It didn't burn down my throat, and had a little taste of raspberry's. We sat in silence for some seconds, watching the living city. 

It was relaxing. 

My left hand stroke the Zebra skin. It was real skin. I glanced at Zayn, and smiled slightly. 

He was looking like I remembered, almost. "Are you still smoking?" I asked, out of nowhere. He just smiled, and nod. But kept his eyes turned out the window. "Do you?" He asked. "I never did," I took another sip. "Good girl," He had a bit of laughter under his voice, and I just smiled. 

He turned to look at me. Right into my eyes. "Are you sure that getting married is really what you want?" 

I just shrugged my shoulders. "I guess it is," Why I had doubted the fact of marrying James now, was hard to tell. I loved him. I had to. I wanted to - right? When I was staring into Zayn's eyes, it was just like everything around us faded out, and it only was him and I. And that feeling was not hard to recognise. The summer when I had been only 16. And oh, it was and felt so wrong, and right at the same time. 

"You guess?" He snorted, and looked away from me, and out of the window again. 

I didn't answer him. We just sat in silence. The only sound came from the outside, but it was almost not there, cause of the quality of the glass in the window, it kept the city sounds out. 

His flat seemed like his own little world, where he could sit and think about the things he wanted out in life... Or maybe I was wrong, maybe he didn't find this place as wonderful as I did. Maybe it was just another 'home' for him, until he was moving the next time. 

I took another sip. 

I glanced at him.

I smiled. 

 

 

 

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