#hareedwardstyles

They say that it gets easier, this whole being alone thing, but even as seconds ticked away on analog clocks and the same sun set and rose with each passing movement, ‘it’ never really got any easier. If anything, ‘it’ became more painful. The thoughts of her, sharp and vivid, impeded his heart at ridiculous speeds and it was as if every souvenir of the relationship, or the caring, or the growth together was another blade imposing his flesh. He couldn’t forget her. More fearfully, he didn’t even mind.

The rumors were beginning to get out. In hushed tones, people wondered why they were never seen together anymore. They asked what had changed, what he’d done and what she’d done. He’d seen some of the things people were saying about her and they acted like shards beneath his feet. They’d always known not everyone would be supportive of their coming together but he’d still sort of... expected it somehow. It was still a surprise to see these people, who claimed to support him, trying to tear down what he’d held so high.

The rumors had sparked a sense of worry amongst family and friends and they too had begun to bombard with questions. It was getting harder and harder to avoid the concerns of his sisters and friends. It was even harder to avoid the pesterous calling of his mother.

Zayn’s mother, Tricia, had been telephoning nonstop since people began to wonder if the iconic couple ‘Zauttie’ had really come to an end. She had been in love with the girl, nearly as much as Zayn had been and it was no shock to him that it would be her biggest concern what could have possibly torn her two favourite lovebirds apart. He hadn’t told her yet, he had no plans to.

The dull chime of Harry’s landline rang through the chic flat Zayn had been living in. While it’d taken a while to grow accustom to his bandmate’s customs, it was either this or the streets. Zayn sighed.

“Hello mum.” His voice was groggy and uninterested, he knew this alone would be enough for her to connect the dots but in his current defeated state, he really couldn’t care less. 

“It’s true then, dear, isn’t it?” She exhaled slowly and Zayn could imagine her sitting down slowly after the heated pace she always did upon starting a phone call. “I can’t say I saw this coming, are you alright?” 

He shrugged, then realized she couldn’t see the lazy slump of his shoulders, “Just tired, s’all.” 

“I’ve been calling everywhere, love. The lads have been so worried about you. I belled your place several times and... this is Harry’s number, why are you answering Harry’s number?” 

“I’ve been staying with him for the past couple weeks.” 

Tricia exhaled slowly, “Why aren’t you at home? I’ve been been listening to the dial tone every time I try to reach you,  and please don’t tell me it’s because you’re scared because I know you Zayn and--” 

“She’s there.” he whispered, cringing at the break in his weak voice. He could hear the deep breaths of his mother as she tried to find words to console her broken son. Zayn found himself running through his schedule for the next week, wondering if he could afford a quick trip to Bradford. If he couldn’t be with her, then he didn’t really want to be anywhere but home. “She left, mum. She’s done with me.” 

Zayn Malik could not fathom what could have possibly led to this altering conclusion. His love story was not supposed to end like this. After years of being troubled and alone, through several relationships and break-ups, he’d finally found the one he wouldn’t let go of. The one he could douse in his secrets and his struggles, the first person to know every inch of his thoughts, both the public and dark side that compiled him, and still choose to stay by his side. This was it for him. He’d finished his search.

With her hair dark as night and her eyes as blue as the sky could get, Autumn Phoenix was all Zayn Malik had needed in his life. She was lively and outspoken, an abundant ball of hyperactive thoughts and ideas, and with the name of a superhero it was almost impossible for him to keep his hands off her.

Even now as he examined her default expression, the same dislodged, tired look he’d been living with for the past month, he could still find so many things to love about her. Yet, standing amidst those things, were all the reasons he couldn’t. The bags under her eyes, the swell of her lips, and the wrinkles and fade of her clothing.

“Are you okay?” Zayn asked the only woman he’d ever love. Her seriousness faltered at the sound of his tired voice. He’d spent endless nights tossing and turning. He was still getting used to sleeping alone. He missed the radiation of warmth and love that Autumn emitted. He missed the low hum of her breathing whenever she dreamed. Her blue eyes sparkled as she glanced between him and her hands. All she could give him a small, pitiful shrug.

He could feel his heart aching.

Zayn had never wanted to touch somebody so badly. Not in a sexual way with lost intentions, but to actually soothe the wounds of this poor version of the woman who’d changed his life. She’d stood by him through the ugly habits, she’d been his shoulder to cry on when things got hard and even with the all the things fans said about her, the paparazzi corrupting her lifestyle and past and with the sudden changes she’d had to make when he’d fallen in love with her, Autumn had never broken down. Never like this. She was the strong one.