World So Cold

Love is never simple. Love is never easy. There is more grey than there is black and white. Zayn Malik Fan Fiction

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6. Quimica Perfecta/Perfect Chemistry

Siobhan

He kisses me. I am surprised. I am outraged. I am putty. Maybe I am too weak,

But I pull away quickly. Does he realize how much he is messing with my head? Does he realize how hard I have tried to forget him? How could he be so selfish? Oh, but you have to admit, he is pretty brave; selfish and brave. No, I cant let myself think anything of him, he has balls, but I cant give him credit.

The only thing I credit Zayn Malik for is breaking my heart. And I owe it to myself to move on.

“You need to go” I tell him, and I don’t want to hear another word. He tries to tell me something but I hold up my hand, silencing him. My equilibrium is still of balance from the kiss, and I pray it will come back soon. Zayn reaches for my hand but I jerk away. “Go now, or I will scream”, it’s so overdramatic, I hate myself for saying it.

“Then scream” he tells me, his hands hanging at his sides.

Of course I don’t scream. “Just go” I shake my head. I was never too good at playing

things cool.

“You’ll love me the same Siobhan, you’ll see”, he steps back and heads toward the black on black Audi R8. “And when that day comes, I’ll be waiting”, he opens the car door smirking. What an asshole, what bravado! Seriously who did he think he was just telling me all these things, and he knows good and damn well that he is leaving….again. And he isn’t leaving alone, he has Brooke Fucking Taylor by his side. So not OK.

When he drives away, I curse at the wind and kick dirt. Damn you Zayn Malik, Damn you

***************************

One week after Damien’s burial, and Zayns appearance, Paco moves in.

It is a Sunday afternoon, and just the night before his family had taken a red eye flight to Mexico. Mrs. Fuentes told us they owned a farm in Coatzacoalcos Mexico, and the house was better than the one here in Jersey. Carlos had shown us pictures one day of the farm, and their were pictures of two innocent brothers chasing roosters and milking cows.

When I pull up front his house, he is sitting on the porch with two suitcases near him. How could someone’s whole life fit into just two suitcases? I don’t allow myself to ponder the thought much further because there are bigger fish to fry. Ever since the bonfire, Paco has been distant with me, almost the way he was junior year before we really became good friends. The past week had been full of awkward silences, and one or two insults that made me think he had been learning a thing or two from Carlos. Surely Carlos was known as the brazen and rude one, not Paco. He puts his suitcases in the trunk and gets in the passenger side, I am not surprised when he doesn’t say a word.

But you know, enough’s enough right? I mean if we had to live together, what good would it be if I started it on the wrong foot. Maybe he has something important to say, and he is just afraid. Or maybe I am over thinking things. “Paco, what’s your problem” I ask stopping at a light . This light separates the good side from the bad side of town and once we cross it, the change is drastic. “Tell me so we can live together in peace”

He looks at me with amusement in his chocolate eyes. Amusement, boy I wish I knew what was so funny. Nothing ever seems funny lately. His full lips break into a smile. Are you kidding me? “Calm down mujer” he adjusts his fitted Boston Red Sox cap that sits on his head. “You and I wont live in peace. Trust me, I can already see the bumps in the road”

What the fuck? What is he talking about, no peace? “Paco you’re being an idiot right now, tell me what is going on….give me a reason”

“As if you don’t know gringa” he shakes his head scratching his chin. There is a light shadow on his face from two days worth of facial hair. “No puede ser”

I am just annoyed at this point, annoyed and confused because for him to just say things will be bad….”English Paco” I demand driving once the light turns green. That light always seemed to take forever.

“It just cant be” he starts, I wonder if he resents me or my parents. I wonder if he feels disconnect. “If I could have it my way, I’d be in Mexico con mi familia” his tone is bitter. I cant help but wince some. Did he really think living with us would be so terrible? We had space in our house, a pool, an attic, a basement, a home library, a music room…endless space and it is space he had never known. At least my house doesn’t have bars on the windows.

“Remember when we talked about counting our blessings? At the bonfire”

He nods and looks at me. “Then pretty boy showed and fucked it all up, yes how can I forget”

He is so stubborn! What on earth makes him so stubborn, what happened to the Paco from Josephine’s birthday party, or even the Paco who sat on the swings with me after…before things went…. “Tell me that a week ago, and I would have counted you as my first” he didn’t say much, but it is enough to make me realize that he isn’t just talking about our friendship or the fact that Olive, Paco and I had each other….it was something that ran deeper. “You can deny the chemistry between us, and you can run back to him whenever. But the chemistry between us is perfect. Quimica Perfecta

It scares me to think he is right.

 

 

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Comment for comment.....come the freak on lol

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