Fall Into the Stars

Zayn loved Emma. Emma loved Zayn. Their relationship wasn't perfect. They weren't like average couples, since they were always away from each other. Emma didn't like her life, herself, all she cared about was Zayn. Zayn wasn't exactly up for that, with him being away on tour all the time. He didn't think 'long distance', so say, would work out for them. When he leaves, she's driven to complete extremes.

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6. Airplanes

Zayn paced back and forth in front of her flat running over what he would say to her in his mind. He'd been there since 2:00am, he just couldn't bring himself up the three stairs that led him to her. Zayn held the chain clutched in his hand, his knuckles white from gripping it to hard. He looked like an absolute mess, the hangover becoming more noticeable. His hair looked like a birds nest, strings of it blowing in the cool wind. The bags under his eyes were more defined, deep purple making his eyes look black. His boots clacked on the cobblestone each time he turned, and the constant flicker of the streetlights made him dizzy. Zayn needed to speak to her, see how she was. If Emma had moved on from him, then he could move on from her.

He took a deep breath and slowly dragged himself up the stairs, knocking on the door once. He stood on his heels, waiting for the door to open and for Emma to appear. It took five minutes until Zayn could hear the soft hum of Emma, singing.

Can we pretend that airplanes in the night sky are like shooting stars,

I could really use a wish right now, wish right now, wish right now.

When Emma opened the door, she saw him. He was looking bad, his face looked rough like he hadn't shaved in weeks. She searched his eyes, for anything. An explanation to why he was here, a reason to why he looked like he did, anything. Zayn looked at her, breathing deeply and heavily, afraid to speak. To be honest, Zayn thought Emma looked terrible. Her ribs jutted out from her shirt, and her arms and legs were thin. Her skin was pale and her hair had lost its shine. Her eyes were dull, he could barely manage to look into them.

"Emma." In that instant he spoke the door was slammed in his face. He gaped in shock, trying to collect himself while tears stung at his eyes. No, he couldn't cry here. Not now, he had to talk to her. Emma slid down the back of the door, tears streaming down her cheeks. Seeing him again wouldn't help the cause, she couldn't let him enter her life again. It would make things worse. Emma heard knocking on her door, but she ignored it. It continued for minutes and she finally snapped.

"Go away. I don't want to talk to you." She screamed, but the knocking didn't stop. Emma heard her name being shouted and she finally groaned, collecting herself off the floor. She yanked the door open, annoyed with Zayn. "What the hell do you want. How did you even find me."Zayn looked at her, the hurt in her eyes was enough to break him.

"I-Emma. I need to talk to you." He stepped closer to her, and she stepped back. He was confused, afraid of what she thought of him. "Emma, Emma please." She kept stepping backwards until she tripped over a table, falling to the ground. Zayn rushed forward but Emma stopped him.

"Stop. Don't come any closer." Emma stood up and walked into her kitchen, shooing Zayn off with her hand. "Close the door on your way out." Zayn sighed in anger and frustration.

"Emma. Stop. I'm not dealing with this right now. Let me talk to you, please." He slammed the door shut and followed her into the kitchen. Emma couldn't believe he had just said he wasn't dealing with this. He obviously couldn't tell how much she had been through, how much blood she had shed over him.

"Don't come into my house and tell me what you're not dealing with right now. I don't fucking want to hear it, Zayn." She started up the stairs but Zayn grabbed her by the hips, pulling her down. She resisted but he couldn't help this. It was the only way to get her to listen. He pressed his lips to hers, lips meeting lips, tounge meeting tounge. She didn't move, just stayed in his arms melting into putty. He put his hand on her neck, and set her down in front of him breaking the kiss. She stood there, looking into his eyes. Emma didn't know what to do. That wasn't supposed to happen, it threw her game off. She knew if he ever came here looking for her, she wouldn't forgive him. She wouldn't fall for him. Emma raised her tiny, frail hand and slapped him. 

"Leave." With that, she walked up the stairs leaving Zayn in pain. He stood frozen, processing what happened slowly in his mind. Emma moved on from him. He now could try and move on from her, but Zayn knew it would be a challenge. She was his love, his only love. Zayn turned on his heels, and left. He pulled open the door and slammed it shut, stepping out into the cool afternoon air. He couldn't stop himself, he slid down the door and burst into tears. 

Emma was in her room, staring at the pile of letters she wrote to Zayn. She now had 182 letters, writing a recent one. Reaching into her drawer, she pulled out a thin rope. Carefully she tied them together, a perfect bow even on each side. She breathed in and out slowly, and walked over to the window. Her window was near the front door, and she knew Zayn was still there. She could hear him. She yanked open the glass carefully, and starting singing quietly but loud enough for him to hear.

Can we pretend that airplanes in the night sky are like shooting stars, 

I could really use a wish right now, wish right now, wish right now.

She dropped the letters, humming the song and watching the package fall. It landed next to Zayn, almost falling into the flower bed. Emma focused her blue eyes on the toffee colored boy and shut the window, blocking the cool air from entering her room. She walked down the stairs and into the kitchen, taking a pen and pad of sticky notes from the counter. She took one of the sticky notes and stuck it to one of the small window that framed the front door. Carefully in pen, she wrote three words that she hoped Zayn would see.

"Read the letters." 

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