Feb 1, 2024 16:23:33 GMT
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Sometimes he felt lonely. Yeah, he had friends here, but they had their own homes and lives to get on with. All the kids at the skate park always went home, the girls at the university returned to their dorms, and here he was sitting on the beach by himself, with nothing but a dying van to call his home. But loneliness made him strong, it made him determined, and perhaps that was a better gift than being spoiled. Zayn knew he could return to London, his parents would probably take him back in a heartbeat, but there was still fear that lingered in the metropolitan city, people who would want to have a word with him when he returned, and Zayn wasn't quite ready to face that yet. He hadn't even thought about approaching his brother whom was around the area.
He took a swig of rum, straight out of the bottle before nestling down into the sand besides him. It was probably dumb to keep it near a fire, but the alcohol warmed his insides like no other. Deep brown eyes stared into the flames now, almost mesmerized by their dance and the crackling sound as he absentmindly bit into a sandwich he had snagged off a counter earlier today when nobody was looking, "You're going to be okay, Zayn," he muttered to himself, after all, he was pretty good about laying low and staying out of trouble. Of course, as that thought crossed his mind, the young man thought he caught movement out of the corner of his eyes. His head twisted in the direction now, staring out into the darkness, "Hello?"
thanks aofie!
☼ ☼ ☼
I
t was a cold night, the kind of night that could sink its cold teeth into your skin and down to the bone. The kind of night that could be dangerous. Thankfully, Zayn Blake had become the master of survival in cold nights, with his little van parked on the beach to block the wind as he poked a little fire to life. The red, yellow, and blue flames roared to life - bringing warmth to the air now despite Zayn still being able to see his breath puff out in the cold. It was okay though, he didn't mind. Tonight would be no different than any other night on this beach or any other part of Hickstead, and he'd wake up just the same: alive and happy.Sometimes he felt lonely. Yeah, he had friends here, but they had their own homes and lives to get on with. All the kids at the skate park always went home, the girls at the university returned to their dorms, and here he was sitting on the beach by himself, with nothing but a dying van to call his home. But loneliness made him strong, it made him determined, and perhaps that was a better gift than being spoiled. Zayn knew he could return to London, his parents would probably take him back in a heartbeat, but there was still fear that lingered in the metropolitan city, people who would want to have a word with him when he returned, and Zayn wasn't quite ready to face that yet. He hadn't even thought about approaching his brother whom was around the area.
He took a swig of rum, straight out of the bottle before nestling down into the sand besides him. It was probably dumb to keep it near a fire, but the alcohol warmed his insides like no other. Deep brown eyes stared into the flames now, almost mesmerized by their dance and the crackling sound as he absentmindly bit into a sandwich he had snagged off a counter earlier today when nobody was looking, "You're going to be okay, Zayn," he muttered to himself, after all, he was pretty good about laying low and staying out of trouble. Of course, as that thought crossed his mind, the young man thought he caught movement out of the corner of his eyes. His head twisted in the direction now, staring out into the darkness, "Hello?"
God, it's brutal out here
