The Memory Jar [Zayn Malik]

Chapter 13: Mistaking

Update time! :D Hello lovely people! How are you all? 

I've been busy with school and whatnot, and I'm most likely going to be in the pit orchestra for the musical... so I'm not sure how well updating will go during that. I'll probably kick some homework and make time, because, face it, this is much more fun! :)

Okay, shipper hearts for Zana may break or throb here to be honest, or maybe even a mix of both, I know mine sure does! 

But let me know, as always, in the comments below! I really love hearing from you guys, and do my best to answer them as often as possible! Thanks for being the amazing readers, you're all the best! :D 

Dana 

            “Sherlock, no!” I hiss, my eyes glued to the screen as Benedict Cumberbatch’s body falls over the side of the building, plummeting down towards the concrete below. 

            Watson looks so devastated as he watches from a far, before he begins running towards the scene, the look of absolute devastation and panic straining his features. 

            “Why?” I groan, covering my face with my hands, but still peaking through, unable to resist the drama. “Why must Sherlock do these things?” 

            Two knocks on the door startle me out of the transfixed state the show put me in, and I purse my lips in frustration as Liam pauses it and stands, walking over to the door to check who it is. 

            “You’re really into this, aren’t you?” Zayn chuckles, nudging his arm with mine. 

            “I just don’t understand why Sherlock has to always mess up Watson!” I protest. “They’re so meant to be, but he ends up hurting him so much!”

            The rest just chuckle at how engrossed I am in the show, but in my defense, it’s completely their faults. They’re the ones that introduced me to it, and ever since they did, I’ve been completely hooked. Even if each episode is an hour and a half, it hurts me that there are only six released so far.  

            “Wow, hi!” Liam’s voice carries easily.

            “Who’s that?” Niall wonders aloud, craning his neck to try and see around Liam. 

            “Of course, come in, please!” 

            Next moment, in steps five people, all with dark hair and light, caramel colored skin, except for the older woman, who seems to be the only one not of the same race.

            “Who are they?” I murmur aloud, loud enough for only the boys around me to hear.

            “Mum,” Zayn instantly stands, looking surprised. “Dad, what’re you doing here?”

            The older man smiles and wraps an arm around the woman. “What?” He questions. “A father and mother can’t come visit their favorite son?” 

            Zayn rolls his eyes, but smiles slightly. “I’m your only son Dad.”

            “Besides,” the woman chimes in. “We were missing Dana, how’ve you been feeling dear?” She steps away from the rest and walks over to me. 

            My brow furrows slightly, but I hesitantly stand. Zayn greets these people as his family, the two older people as his parents. For some reason, my brain seems to be reacting slowly, because it takes me a while to realize that this means they’re my parents as well.