Your Creation • Zarry

36. Try and wash it off

Zayn didn't speak to me during the entire bus ride to Philadelphia. In fact, he didn't speak to anyone; he just laid in his bunk the whole time. I had tried taking a nap, but I was too restless. My brain wouldn't turn itself off and all I could do was wonder what it was that Zayn was thinking about.

He was right; things were never going to be normal. There were too many expectations, too many things beyond our control. Things we can and can't do. I knew this all too well and even had these as tattoos as reminders for myself. But I also knew who I'm pretty sure I was deep down and what I wanted...and that was Zayn. He was the only one who made me feel anything at all, and I would have done just about anything for him.

But I never told him that. I was too afraid to tell him how deep my feelings for him really were. I couldn't tell him that I loved him, even though I was pretty sure that I did. We knew everything about each other. We cared about each other. We had fun. We had mind-blowing sex. It felt right. It felt natural. But...did he love me? Was he in love with me? He never once said it. I wasn't about to expose myself to that kind of vulnerability only to get hurt. I just didn't want to get hurt.

I wrote about all of this in my journal because that was all I could do to get this shit out of my brain. It consumed me all the way to Philadelphia and then I shook it off like I always do so I could get through life.

The bus pulled up to the back lot of the venue and Zayn finally popped himself out of his bunk. He threw on a black t-shirt and exited quickly before anyone else could move. I already knew what he was doing and decided to follow him behind the bus, watching as he chain-smoked his Marlboro Golds.

I reached into his pocket and pulled out his pack of cigarettes. I slipped a cigarette out and silently held out my hand for a lighter.

"What are you doing?" he inquired, raising a brow as he blew out smoke.

"I want one," I lied. I really just wanted a reason to stand outside with him.

"Why?"

"Please?"

He gave me a strange look and handed me his lighter. I lit it up and tried to stifle a cough, but it was no use. I started coughing even more and couldn't stop after one drag.

Zayn leaned over and grabbed it from between my fingers and threw it onto the ground, stepping on it.

"You don't smoke. It's bad for you and you hate it. Don't be an idiot."

I liked that he cared about my health but I hated how he never cared about his.

"Alright, Daddy. My bad..." I smirked and he shook his head at me, giving me a playful nudge. "So are we cool or what? You gave me the silent treatment all the way here. Tell me what's going on."

"I was sorting things out," Zayn responded, leaning against the bus.

"What do you mean sorting things out?"

"I took care of some things, okay? We're good, babe."

Babe.

I smiled softly.

However, I soon learned exactly what he meant by that.

We had a day off and Zayn had decided to go out and get a new tattoo with Louis, but he refused to tell me what he was getting. I had been staying back at the hotel hanging out with Lou when Zayn returned, walking in with the last thing I ever expected to see on his bicep.

Lou's eyes widened and she exchanged glances with me. My jaw dropped as I stared at a giant cartoon drawing of Perrie. This had to be a joke.

"So we're getting temporary tattoos now?" I asked in total disbelief.