slow it down // zayn malik

chapter thirty-four // learning to speak with kisses on cheek.

linley's pov

Tired, aching and lonely, I walk through the fairly empty festival grounds, dragging my feet as I make my way out of the campground. A duffel bag stuffed with my belongings drapes over my shoulder, along with my guitar, locked up safely inside its case.

After a few hours of walking endless circles around the campground, I mustered up enough courage to approach my camper, my heart pounding in my throat with fear of running into Zayn or anyone else for that matter. But luckily fate was at my side and the camper was abandoned, leaving me to pack up my things in peace.

I left a note for Sable, telling her to enjoy the rest of the festival and to give me a call in a few days, once I get things sorted by myself. But it's not really her that I'm worrying about upsetting.

I can't help but to keep replaying faces of pure heartbreak in my mind. The way Harry looked at me when I left him only a few short hours ago, makes me feel sick to my stomach. But that doesn't even compare to the nausea I feel when recalling Zayn's broken face as I was running away from him.

 I've never been one too concerned with how others think of me, but for some reason, as I leave the festival behind me, I can't help but to regret how I left things. 

Shaking my head, I have to remind myself of one thing: I still have myself. I made a pact with myself a long time ago, that I would never depend on anyone else. People disappoint; memories fade; relationships crumble. But the one thing that will always be here is me. I've went this long without attaching myself to another person, I don't need anyone. 

So no matter how much my brain is telling me I'm a coward for running away, I know that in the years to come, when I'm successful, powerful and happy, I'll be thanking myself. 

I look up to the sky, trying my hardest to keep my tears at bay as I gaze up at the moon surrounded, being loved by so many stars. I can only envy how effortless their relationship seems. The festival grounds are only lit by the night sky and scattered lamplights, casting shadows to appear.

Walking quickly pass the massive crowds forming in front of the center stage for whoever is performing tonight, I make my way to the front entrance. My feet shuffle quickly, in fear that someone will try and stop me before I can finally escape this small little world I've landed myself in. 

I'm not so sure what Ragstock music festival has done to me, but all I do know is that I need to get out of here, and quickly.

I let out a sigh of relief as I approach the box office, placed at the entrance, which also serves as the exit in just a few short days. It's dimly lit, revealing a rather bored looking man sitting in there, his head resting against the counter. 

Gently, I knock on the window, sending him jumping in the air, letting out a small shout of surprise. 

"I'm sorry," I apologize immediately, the corners of my lips turning up for one of the first times in a long time.

Relief and recognition washes across the man's face as his eyes focus on me. He slides open the window and turns his small light so it's casting some light on my face as well.

"Sorry, I'm just exhausted," He apologizes in return, "I've been dealing with the paps all night long," He explains, causing my eyebrows to raise. 

Why am I not surprised that they managed to weasel their way into the festival, even though it's highly against the rules? Those bastards will go to no end to intrude on a celebrity's personal life. I hope that all the boys are somewhere hidden.

Just the thought of the boys of One Direction make my smile falter, diminishing the light that had been lit in my eyes. 

"But anyways, what can I help you with?" He asks, sitting up straighter in his seat.