Camp Direction

Zayn and Penny

Zayn silently pulled the hood over his head and stuffed his hands in his pockets, ready to leave the studio. Niall was coming back from Florida any moment, Louis was in Chicago, Liam was in New York, and Harry was back at his flat with - lucky him - Kate, who’d agreed to take a year off and go to uni in London.

“And where do you think you’re going?” a thick, Irish accent was heard.

Zayn sagged his shoulders in defeat and looked up at the body guard, a scowl upon his lips as he said, “Come on, Paul! I haven’t seen her in months!”

“You can’t go,” Paul, the Irish body guard, said, crossing his muscular arms, “I’m sorry, Zayn, but it’s too big of a risk. The fans know that Penny lives in Canada-”

“But they also know that Celine lives in New York, Jenny lives in Chicago, Tori lives in Florida, and Kate lives with Harry! What’s wrong with me going to see my girlfriend, Paul? Huh?” Zayn huffed, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

“I’m sorry, Zayn,” Paul sighed, “But I’m not allowed to take you to Heathrow Airport. Come along, now. We’re going to Niall’s flat. He’s on his way there right now.”

Zayn groaned, but followed directions. Paul placed a hand on his shoulder and guided him out the studio doors, through the large group of fans out front, and into the cab. Zayn sat in the back, pulling his knees to his chest and burying his face into his folded arms, while Paul sat in the passenger seat, every now and then taking a glance back at the dark haired boy, who hadn’t moved once.

“We’re here, Za-” Paul began, thinking he’d been asleep, but turned around to find that he’d slammed the door, and was stomping up the steps to the building of Niall’s flat.

Paul sighed again, and put a few tenners in the cab driver’s outstretched hand before following the aggrivated lad up the steps and through the door, where he was already pressing the button to the lift.

“Unfair,” Zayn muttered, as he and Paul walked through the open doors of the lift. He made his way to the corner of the lift and leaned against the wall, his head leaned back as he searched the ceiling for anything else to think of. Sadly, the only person on his mind was Penny.

At the sound of the opening doors, he lazily stood back up and walked out slowly to aggrivate Paul a bit. The security guard, however, knew Zayn well enough to walk past him and get to the door of the flat first, fumbling with the keys on the keychain he had. The keychain held precisely seven keys. One key to his own flat, which he shared with his wife and soon-to-be child, another to Niall’s flat, then Liam’s, Zayn’s, Harry’s, and finally Louis’. He unlocked the door and pushed the door open, lightly pushing Zayn inside before closing the door again.

The dark haired boy scowled, jumping face first onto Niall’s couch and burying his face into a nearby pillow. He screamed into it, his voice muffled by the stuffing. Paul just looked at him before pouring a cup of tea into a nearby mug for himself.

“Tea, Zayn?” Paul called.

Zayn, angry and upset, stood up, yanking the pillow off his face and throwing it to the ground. Eyes filled with tears, he stomped out of the room, wiping at his eyes furiously.

“Now, Zayn,” Paul said, following him, and said to himself, “This wasn’t part of the plan...”

He found the dark haired boy in Niall’s room, sprawled upon the bed as he stared at his phone. Paul pressed his lips into a thin line when he heard the door bell, knowing it was Niall. He left Zayn and went to get the door.

“I’ll see you, I promise,” Zayn sniffled, staring down at the picture on his phone. 

It was taken while the two were sitting on the dock, a few moments before they’d been called to the bus to take them to the airport. Her eyes were closed as she’d gone to press a kiss to his lips, but had missed. Instead, he had ended up kissing her nose, and she’d captured the moment on his phone. {A/N: Sidebar picture :D}

“Hey, Zayno,” came Niall’s voice, and the handle being smacked down of the luggage, “How’re yeh?”

“Fine,” Zayn muttered, staring at the picture.

“You don’t seem fine.”

“Let’s not go there,” Zayn replied.

“Okay,” Niall said, and was quiet as he unpacked his clothing from the trip.

“How was Florida?” Zayn asked.

“Sunny, warm. I actually got a decent tan.”

“No way.”

“Yes way. And Tori’s here too.”

“Oh, how lovely,” Zayn said sarcastically.

“What are you trying to say, Zayn?” Niall huffed, “You’ve been acting off since I stepped foot in this flat.”

“You all have your girls!” Zayn shouted, suddenly sitting up, catching Niall by surprise. The Irish boy stepped back a bit, taking in Zayn’s red face, hot tears pouring down his cheeks as he said, “And I can’t see mine! You go to  Florida and come back with the biggest smile on your face, and I was just told that I can’t bloody go to Canada to see Penelope!”

Silence.

“I’ll-er-go have a cuppa with Paul,” Niall said, after hearing Zayn’s stressful breakdown.

He walked backwards, keeping his eye on Zayn as if he was a wild animal. As soon as he was through the doorway, he pulled the door closed, leaving the dark haired boy alone in the bedroom.

“ARGH!” Zayn exclaimed, flopping back onto the bed, burying his face into a pillow and screaming into it once more. “This is unfair.”

After a few minutes, Zayn heard the door slowly open. He expected it to be Niall, knowing it didn’t take the Irish boy long to feel horrible about whatever he’d done to come back and apologize.

Instead, a pair of arms snaked around his torso, soft lips on the nape of his neck. Alarmed, Zayn said, “Niall? What the bloody hell are you doing?”

He squirmed in the grip, and ended up on his back, brown eyes staring right into his own. She smiled, a light giggle escaping her lips at his shocked reaction.

“P-Penny?!” he exclaimed, hurriedly wiping the tears from his face, “What-How?”

“Paul sent me a plane ticket,” she smiled, “You must’ve given that poor man a hard time, Zayn. He’s drowning his worries with that cup of tea- whoa!”

He’d interrupted her, grabbing her waist and pulling her so that she fell onto his chest, her lips forcefully pressed to his. He smiled into the kiss, tickling her sides. She squirmed, laughs erupting against his lips as he continued tickling her.

“S-Stop! This isn’t fair! You’re stronger!” she exclaimed, as he pinned her down, tickling her neck, sides, and lifting her shirt up a bit to tickle the skin on her middle.

“That’s right, I am,” he said, smiling.

“And that would be why I love you, you big idiot,” she laughed, pulling him down to kiss his lips again.

Omigosh, I feel like that was horrible...

I'm so sorry :(

Harry and Kate's will be up next Sunday!