Icarus | Z.M.

39 | Sounds

Victoria Tomlinson

Zayn took me back to his before taking me home.

The drive back was silent besides the small hum of the radio, neither of us said anything to each other. I knew I had been annoying him all day, dragging him around when I knew it was the last place on earth he wanted to be. I could tell he was getting more agitated as the day went on, jumpier, like there were so many people it was making him anxious. I knew it was hard having to watch me while also being wary of every other person in the building and when I realised how stressful it had to be for him, I thought it was best we just left.

The guitar was a peace offering.

I kept seeing him looking at it. I had no idea if he could still play, or if he even wanted to get back into it, but I could see his eyes on it a few separate times when we were in the shop. He held it and played it quietly to himself. I had never seen him do something for the sake of himself, something that he enjoyed.

I just wanted to do something nice for him given I was constantly stressing him out.

And the minion slippers were just funny.

He could deny it all he wanted but I saw him watching it and I knew he enjoyed it.

The bar leading down to his apartment was open, but it was pretty empty since it was just after 9.p.m. There were a few random people at the pool table playing, a few cans of beer witting around the table. Soft music played from the speakers.

Zayn had his hand hovering around my lower back as he walked me through. I'd left all of my bags in the car, knowing he was just dropping off his things before he took me back home.

The set of stairs and the long corridor leading down to the door to his flat beneath the bar always made a shiver run up my spine. All I could see and remember was when Zayn had killed that man the first time I was down here. The way he watched my horrified expression, smiling as he dragged a blade along someone's throat and killed them like it was nothing. All that before he approached me, had me against the wall and terrified me. I swore I could still feel it when the blood from the dead man was smeared across my skin because of Zayn.

I took a breath and attempted to clear my head of those thoughts and memories. As much as I didn't fully trust Zayn with some things, I trusted him a hundred times more now than I did then.

He unlocked the door to his flat and pushed it open, letting me step inside before he did.

His apartment was the exact same as I had remembered. It was so homey compared to what I had ever expected it to be. When he flicked on the lights, it was only a few lamps that were around the room that turned on as opposed to the main light. The same blanket was sprawled across the couch, there were potted plants on some counters and on the coffee table, alongside candles, some mugs that had been used and not put away yet. It was so homey and would never fail to catch me off guard.

I stood off to the side and crossed my arms over my chest. Zayn placed his new guitar case down against one of the counters and walked further into his home. I hadn't moved, didn't make myself comfortable, he had said he was just dropping his things off before taking me home, we weren't staying long. I still wasn't exactly sure why I had to come down here with him, when I could have just stayed in the car if he was going to be quick, but I never argued against it and followed him with no question.

"You can sit down, Vic." Zayn said, eyeing me from the counter in the kitchen area. He took down two glasses from a cupboard.

I hated that I felt nervous. Why was I so nervous around him? I spent every second of my day with him and half of that time it was just the two of us, we'd spend the entire day together much to his dismay and I hadn't at all felt nervous. What was it about being in his home with him had the goosebumps on the back of my neck rising and my mouth forgetting how to speak.