44; Roses, roasted vegetables, and cartoons

68.3K 2.4K 2.5K
                                    

Violet

 

Zayn and I arrive in Bradford around 2:30 pm, the trip more than ready to end. I've had enough. Not because of Zayn; he's actually not that bad of a car companion - he doesn't insanely chatter on about useless stuff that nobody cares about, play his music really loud, ignore me and make the whole car ride totally uncomfortable, he's good. Just ... good. But, I hate car rides; long ones especially. I've never coped well with them, ever since I was a child. The long, windy trips make my head spin and my stomach churn; but of course I was never going to let Zayn know that. Plus, I've had years of experience to know how to cope - a water bottle, music I like so that I can focus on that, and something sugary and sweet to keep my energy up. I was just surprised Zayn was so okay with it - the music thing. I've driven with people who get real bothered with playing music they don't like. Well, eventually. I mean, he took some time.

"Welcome to the shittiest place on earth," Zayn declares as we enter the town. I'm about to pass out, I need to get out of this car. I've handled three hours acting like I was totally fine, but I'm starting to feel dead.

Zayn seems to notice because I see him glance at me, obviously wondering why I didn't laugh at his joke, and then do a double take. "You okay?"

I fan myself with my shirt. "Yah-huh."

"You're looking scarily green," he points out.

"I am?" I feel my face, which just feels overheated.

"We're nearly at my house," he says, and I realise he says 'house' not 'home'. It's all these little things I've come to learn and really take notice of in Zayn. "Five minutes."

He's not lying; five minutes later he's pulling up a driveway and stopping in a small clearing off to the side of a small, but tidy and cute brick house. There's not much space around it with two houses right next door, and only a small grass patch and outdoor area out the front. There's a small garage to the side with one car and I catch sight of a clothesline hanging in the back with pink and yellow and all kinds of colours pegging off it. The house itself feels warm and inviting with two steps leading up to a dark door and large windows with the curtains pulled back to allow a view inside the house.

I love it immediately.

But, I don't waste anymore time admiring the house. As soon as Zayn parks I leap out of the car and take several deep breaths, closing my eyes. I'm not going to vomit, because how embarrassing would that be? That is not the way to introduce yourself to your 'boyfriend's' parents. The air's still thick and hot, but somehow less here.

"Car sick, huh?" Zayn's voice startles me from my left.

I open my eyes and look over at him. He's pulling out all of our bags, and he looks over his shoulder at me. "Why didn't you tell me?" He stands up and heaves his duffle over his shoulder.

"I'm not," I say defensively, for some unknown reason. "Just a little hot."

He stands by the door, cocking his head sideways as a small smirk plays at his lips. "Right. Well, whatever it is, you okay now?"

When Worlds Collide - A Zayn Malik FanficWhere stories live. Discover now