#172 Phone Calls - Zayn - NOT MINE

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Zayn: Zayn is absolutely shattered by the time he dials your number, his limbs weighed down with exhaustion, curled up beneath the hotel comforter, eyelids drooping closed as the phone rings. You answer quickly, though, which is probably a good thing, because he might have simply fallen asleep otherwise, and he automatically smiles at the sound of your voice, greeting him happily. "Hey, love," he mumbles, and you immediately grow quieter at the sentence, his sleepiness evident. "Zayner, you sound exhausted. Do you want to go just go to sleep? That's fine, I can talk to you tomorrow." "Wanna talk to you," he slurs, and you sit down at your kitchen table a thousand miles away, eating dinner while it's past three a.m. for him. "Okay," you say, careful to be much quieter, and chat to him for a little bit, before he just stops answering, and although he's not quite asleep yet, he can't bring himself to either speak or hang up. So you listen to him breathe until he falls into the new world of dreams and fantasy's and magic, and when he wakes up the next morning, he finds the line still open, and instead of him, you're fast asleep, lulled by the fact that, although Zayn may not be here in person, he's on the phone, and it's almost the same as sleeping beside him, almost, but not quite. You're going to have to wait a couple more weeks for that.

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