Hidden Beneath Brown Eyes (A Zayn Malik Fanfiction)

Chapter 62 - Midnight

It was dark by the time we arrived in Bradford, and by dark, I mean it was eleven o'clock at night and almost every light in the town had been shut off. Possibly the only light shining was the flickering spotlight that illuminated a moderately sized, blue sign that read "Welcome To Bradford" in fading white letters. As we drove, we passed by darkened cafes, grocery stores, and shops. I knew it was late, but this was ridiculous. It literally looked like a ghost town.

My mind flashed back to all the times that Zayn had mentioned how small his hometown was, and how growing up there wasn't exactly the most exciting life. It wasn't until now that I realized that he wasn't even slightly exaggerating. Bradford was like a dot on the map, if that. I came from a small town too, and Charleston may be small, but at least people know about us.

The darkness outside the car was effecting the inside as well, as if the inside wasn't already pitch dark. I was tired, and I didn't want to fall asleep, so I considered turning on one of the overhead lights, but eventually decided against it because Jack was still sleeping and I didn't want to wake him up. 

The air that circulated through the car not only carried silence, but stillness as well. The last five hours of the drive had been spent in almost absolute silence. I mean, every so often, Zayn or I would make some kind of comment and light conversation would follow, but it always died off within a few minutes. It wasn't awkward, it was just...still. It was like neither one of us really wanted to talk, and we knew enough to actually respect that.

The whole time through Bradford, I kept my eyes on Zayn. I struggled to see him through the darkness, and it was hard to tell exactly what he looked like with the only light coming from the headlights of the SUV, but from what I could see, his face was cold, as usual. I didn't know how long it had been since he had been back home, and his expression didn't give much away, but I just had this feeling that it had been awhile.

Everything that we passed by was closed for the night, and I was wondering how much farther we had until we got to his parents' house. Then, up ahead a light came into view. It seemed to be the only light for miles so it lit the sky on fire, attracting us like moths to a lamp. The small gas station appeared to be the only thing open in the whole town, and just knowing that simple fact filled me with the overwhelming urge to stop.

I'm very shy and introverted by nature, so I don't like too much human interaction, but being stuck in a car, practically alone, for eight hours, would make even me desperate for some outside contact. I had to resist the temptation to press my face up against the window while staring longingly at the lone gas station, as Zayn didn't show any signs of slowing down. But to my surprise, at the last possible second, he did slow down, and to my excitement, turned into the gas station. The smile on my face was subtle, but definitely noticeable, and if the car hadn't been so dark, I would've tried harder to conceal it for fear that he would notice it. 

When the car came to a stop in front of one of the pumps, it was hard for me to not simply burst out the door. I kept myself in check and casually looked around, pretending as if I hadn't even realized that we'd stopped. Zayn on the other hand, didn't even try to hide the fact that he needed some air, because as soon as he pulled the keys out of the ignition, he was out the door. I followed soon after, quietly scooting myself to the other side of the car and slipping out the other door, praying that the sound of the doors hadn't woken either Paola or Jack. 

For some reason, I was stunned by how cold it was when I stepped out of the car. It had to be at least fifty degrees Fahrenheit, which was outrageous considering it was the middle of summer. I zipped up my jacket and tightly hugged myself, my fingers gripping into my arms fiercely. Droplets of water dripped from the overhead awning; a clue that it must have rained here as well.