The melody echoed through your soul, fixating on that trembling vessel of your heart. Air was blowing right to left; it's windy out in LA. Birds are chirping from within the clouds, your toes were wrapped in sand. The metal of those sliver boho rings, connected in a pose, they start reflecting off the sunlight. The paps had the perfect opportunity to snap at that perfect shot.
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This was your chilled day today, listening to your favorite tunes forgetting the bull-shit argument that you had with your beloved husband Zayn Malik. He was a known artist, as you all know former band member of one direction.
"Mum?" Your little girl came separating your legs so she can fit in between.
She immediately picked up off Zayn's accent, from when she was a toddler. It was strange you'll think she sound more American.
"Yes?" Rolling off that ear piece.
"Can we go home now? It's getting hot. Mummy." Her tiny fingers rub the sweat off your knee.
She's so caring just like her alluring father.
It's only 78°
"See you're sweating," she pokes at your knee.
You smirk at the caramel girl, ruffling with her curly hair. She was a spitting image of her father, kinda look like her aunt waliyha. Her honey brown eyes had a tinge of green around the ring. The little girl misses her daddy already she wants to hug him and hold him tight, shower him with kisses. She was also hoping you guys wouldn't fight when you got back home. She hates when you two fight it breaks her little heart.
"Okay, Azara we will." She grew excited, hopping out from between your legs to jump up and down.
Hoping her daddy was at home. And he was playing the game at y'all bel-air mansion. Smoking a bit of blunt. With a friend. It isn't the kinda friend you would like for him to hang around with. You gathered the materials, before standing up, azara was dusting the beach towel. Mumbling 'filthy sand' you chuckle at her bit of rant how her frown was prominent when you seen her tiny hand smothering the sand off. You told your daughter it'll be okay to just throw it in the bag.
The paps were rushing to you flickering, Azara told them off saying 'leave us alone.' You picked up the pace holding your daughters hand, finally making it to the car. Azara held the door open for you and the bodyguard who gladly strapped Azara in. She yelp clicking the button of the AC the engine was roaring announcing for the paps to back up. They did. On the drive home you were jamming to the weekend, Azara start humming the lyrics. Smiling at her beautiful mother who's singing terribly off key. The grip on the leather of the steering wheel has you expressing how you felt after that harsh argument.
