Chapter 12: 11

'24H' - Seventeen (Japanese)

Unedited

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Leaning his head back against the bus seat, Zayn finally allowed himself to think of her. The whole weekend he spent at the station, messing around with those guys, going around and spraying their tags everywhere. And he got hold of a vape pen again. He threw himself into activities lest his mind wondered towards her. That Friday incident cut deep - but he had no right to be upset - they weren't promised to each other or together or anything like that.

Her emerald orbs glittering like jewels, the curve of her mouth, her elegant hands, shaped like an artists. He'd watched her as she'd laughed with his family, her earrings dangling, her bindi reflecting light. Her dress cut close to her petite build, causing his eyes to train down her body until he caught himself. Her sharp witty comments punctuated with her slightly raised eyebrows and half-lidded eyes. She looked, he didn't know, sensual, without even trying, just her resting face enough to send his heart into overdrive.

Snap out of it, snarled a voice in his mind. He locked away all thoughts of her in a box and shoved it at the back of his mind. No more moments of weakness. He was going to see her today but he wouldn't act cold, but indifferent. As if nothing happened. As if his heart didn't squeeze painfully every time he thought of her, like he didn't want to crush her in his arms and tell her his point of view, to apologise. His ego wouldn't let him; besides he was sure she wouldn't give a shit. Like she didn't before. She barely reacted, like she expected nothing more, knew he'd disappoint her.

He was snapped out of his reverie,

"Bro, I've been tryna get yo attention for the past fuvking minutes. Where yo mind at?" grilled Sami.

"Just thinking of Friday, with Sy- with her," God, he felt so pathetic that he couldn't even say her name. How would he face her?

"Look you're gonna go in there and fix this shit with her. Cuz of her you decided to get yo shit together, and the moment there's a rift? Bam - you're back to your old habits. Like cmon," ordered Sami, getting up and picking up his bag as they neared their stop.

"I can't bruh,"

"Being too much of a pussio,"

"Maybe. But she don't give a shit. Imma look like a fool tryna explain myself while she's there wondering why tf I'm telling her,"

"God, you're so dense. So fucking dense. There's always some sorta drama between you two. Can never have some peace. You gotta fix this man,"

"I don't know, we will see once I meet her innit,"

"Remember that if you don't do it now, you'll be spending the rest of this month so awkwardly with her. You can't do it too late cuz she gon question that," advised Sami.

Dang. That hadn't even occurred to him. This whole situation caused logic to leave his brain; just filled with self pity. He wasn't ready to face her.

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"Today you will be working on a little project with your partner. With Christmas approaching, we decided to hold a Gingerbread House contest. Whoever's house is most liked by the judges at the end earns fifteen merit points. Whoever has the most merit points ah the end of this month wins the competition, so collect as many as you can!" announced Ms Kelly over the speakers.

Zayn was in a small classroom with a few other peers at the front. His head was pounding for some reason, so he chose the most secluded spot he could find. He sent Syra a text telling her where he was, and he received one back telling him she was on her way.

She arrived, greeting him neutrally like usual and they both got on setting things up, reading the instructions on the paper. After moving a few things about Zayn plopped himself down on the chair, unmotivated. He wasn't going to pretend to enjoy and partake in this stupid activity - she's the one who wanted the merits so she could do it, he's just contribute here and there. He could tell this left her vexed, because soon after she slammed her hand down on the table and whirled around, eyes ablaze,

"So you're gonna sit there while I slave around?"

"Clearly,"

"This is a project for two so you should be helping me out. I don't know what's up with you -"

Zayn laughed humourlessly.

"Please. Don't. You know why. Anyways you're the one so desperate for the merits, so you can do it. I'll do my little bits so you can win but I can't be asked to be faffing about doing this bullshit."

"I guess I'm just no one special -"

Why was she saying all this? It angered him so he stood up abruptly and stepped closer to her.

"And when did you hear those words leave my mouth, huh?"

"So you're accusing your father of lying,"

She stared back up at him defiantly. She could've fooled him, if she didn't slowly shuffle her feet a little till she was against the wall. She stood in the corner, surrounded by the walls on two sides and the cupboard slightly in front of her. Zayn went even closer, leaning his right shoulder against the wall next to her, causing her to be surrounded on each side with him in front of her.

"Or maybe there's more to the story than you know?" he spoke quietly, not even caring that he was blatantly checking her out.

The air between them grew hot, sounds of their laboured breathing filled the gap between them. Both of them were refusing to let go of their pride.

She watched him as he trailed his eyes down to her white shirt, hugging her breasts, before narrowing to her small waist. It ended at the tops of her thighs, not fully concealing her hourglass shape. Her black jersey skirt was sung against her legs, sticking to her leggings underneath, riding up ever so slightly to reveal a silver anklet on her foot. He looked at her beautifully carved hands, stacked with delicate rings, her nails kept medium length.

Her black hijab rested on her shoulders, swooping down to the top of her chest and the small of her back. She wore her scarf loosely, with a piece underneath to hide her hair, neck and ears, giving him a view of her sharp edged jawline leading up to a slightly pointed shin. Her shiny plump lips begged to be kissed, her slightly turned up nose contrasting her whole sarcastic-I-don't-give-a-fuck vibe.

She wasn't wearing any makeup today, and he loved that he could see the slight shadowing around her eyes, faint acne scars here and there. She was so beautiful. Her thick eyebrows weren't arched for once, just furrowed slightly.

And finally her eyes. They peered up at him, giving him that fuck me vibe. Him being a whole foot taller than her added to it. He cursed himself for letting such a thought enter his mind - if he kept thinking like that he'd only make it more hard for himself, sitting there all horny. She was just looking up at him, trying to figure him out and he was there losing his shit.

She swallowed and commented,

"Like what you see?" She kept her face devoid of any emotion, not letting Zayn know if the close proximity was affecting her.

"Yeah," he replied.

He smirked after seeing her open her mouth to reply then shut it. She tried to be smart mouthed, not expecting him to be so blunt in return, his reply stunning her into silence.

As they continued to challenge each other with their eyes, a voice spoke out behind them.

"What the fuck are you doing with my sister, Mailk?"

Ilyas stood at the front of their classroom, looking like he'd run here, hair mussed and tie strewn across his shoulder.

Zayn turned so his back was against the wall, next to Syra. His arms had already been folded, which worked in his favour.

"Absolutely nothing as you can see," he answered cooly, not wanting any conflict with Ilyas because he actually liked the guy and he didn't think Syra would appreciate it.

"Why have you cornered my sister?" he demanded, walking closer to the pair.

"My scarf got stuck and he helped pulled it out. Would've done it myself but I couldn't reach behind me. That's it. Otherwise we are taking part in the gingerbread house competition," replied Syra smoothly.

Ilyas eyed them, distrust clearly evident on his face.

"I swear I didn't touch your sister. Or say anything remotely inappropriate. You think she'd let me?" added Zayn as convincingly as he could.

Ilyas looked at them for a moment longer before shaking his head.

"Right. Gingerbread house. Really, Zayn?" asked Ilyas, laughing.

Zayn laughed, more out of relief.

"Well she needs the extra credit for her subjects and I need to win to get out of my community service so why not. Besides she's doing the main thing I'm just on the sidelines."

"Ight, cool. I gotta go, see you around,"

And with that Ilyas walked off, eliciting a relieved exhale from both of them. They looked at each other for a few unblinking moments before bursting out laughing. Zayn clutched his stomach, bending over with laughter. He couldn't remember the last time he had laughed so freely like this, without it coming out sounding forced. It felt good.

Syra and Zayn continued with their tasks in comfortable silence. Well for now. Both knew a chat about their feelings was long overdue, but neither wanted to be the one to suggest it. Zayn knew it would come out from one of them in the heat of the moment, as it has now. He didn't feel ashamed that he had to piss her off for her to react. That's kinda toxic, ya know, said a voice. Well it's not like she cares. Maybe she even likes it, a more arrogant side of him surfacing. Zayn had a bigger ego than he'd liked to admit.

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Later on the day, Zayn sat with Anwar, eating his sandwich. He and his friends didn't often spend time as one whole big group - that was only when the were playing video games at home. They hung out with a few at a time, so some were closer to some than the others. Everyone preferred it like that anyways.

"I began again Anwar. Like the moment her family left I was heading towards the station without even realising it. Is this gonna happen every time we have a conflict? Cuz she defo deserves way more than that." confesses Zayn, his insecurities on a high.

"What happened to changing for her, huh?"

"Idk, I thought this would be the end of any contact but seems like things aren't too bad. But I still went back to those habits,"

Anwar put his food down, linking his hands together before responding,

"Zayn. It won't work out like that. You must first change for yourself. To become a better person. Then for those around you. Because we will always be having rifts with others, and that will leave us unmotivated if we are changing for them. Change for yourself first. Prioritise yourself and you'll see how you will improve with those around you. That's what I can make sense of your situation,"

Zayn nodded, digesting this.

"Come on. Let's go to the masjid to pray Maghrib." he suddenly suggested.

He felt a longing to go to the mosque; it had been months. He still prayed at home, but he hadn't been feeling too connected to it. He wanted to clear his mind; wanted guidance and the idea of going to the mosque just appeared in his mind.

Anwar smiled; he always used to ask Zayn to come with him but Zayn would decline, coming up with excuses.

"I thought you'd never ask," he replied and they set off together, sunset approaching.

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This was more of a filler chapter. The calm before a storm. I'm trying to focus on editing this but I just wanna jump into writing all the juicy bits, u know.

2060 words.