sleepwalker || z.m.

*~Nina~*

I woke up this morning with a sharp pain in my right arm. God, I hope I didn't sleep with it twisted behind my back, again. It was this super weird habit I had as a child; sleeping with my arm like that. The blinding light of the sun bursting through the curtains made me cringe. I never really was a morning person.

Waking up without Harry by my side is definitely one of the hardest things with him joining the army. We were set to get married in three weeks, but when he was deployed to Austria, we had to postpone the wedding.

"We'll get married the day I come home," he promised, kissing my knuckles to warm them.

"But if you didn't leave in the first place, I wouldn't have to wait for you," I told him, tears welling up in my eyes. He brushed the hair out of my eyes and kissed my forehead gently.

"I know, baby, but I need to go," he said softly. At this point, I knew there was no use in trying to talk him out of it.

It's been two days since he's left. The first night, I didn't sleep. I tossed and turned in bed, trying everything I could to repress the overwhelming emotions I was feeling. Last night, I took some sleeping pills to hopefully give me a goodnight's sleep, but according to the shooting pain in my arm, they didn't work too well.

I rolled myself out of bed, kicking off the sheets and slipping my feet into the slippers at the foot of the bed. Groggily shuffling towards the bathroom, I went about my usual morning routine, except it was different.

See, Harry and I usually brushed our teeth at the same time, and we'd listen to Panic! at the Disco and dance like maniacs while getting the job done. He'd spin me around, toothbrush still in hand, and I'd hum along to Miss Jackson as he smiled his gorgeous smile.

I'll miss the small things like that while he's gone. I don't know how long he'll be gone, but he said he'd write and call as often as he could, so I was awaiting further information.

I continued getting ready for the day, grabbing my lab coat and briefcase for my job at the local forensics laboratory before deciding against breakfast and heading towards the door. After locking the door behind me, I turned around swiftly and caught a glimpse of my across-the-hall neighbor coming out of his apartment. I think his name is Zack.

He looked at me with a weird expression on his face, a mix between guilt and... apprehension. What's his problem?

The elevator ride down to the lobby was quite awkward. He would look at me with his tired eyes, and when I looked back at him, he'd turn his face away quickly. I detected an aura of mystery radiating off of him, and in a way, it was a little thrilling.

"Hi," I said, trying to break the uncomfortable tension.

"Hey," he replied, eyes still not leaving the floor.

"I'm Nina," I said, sticking out my hand. He looked at my outstretched hand weirdly for a moment before reaching out his own. When he didn't tell me his name, I asked, "And you are?"

"Oh." He scratched the back of his neck before replying, "Zayn."

"Right. Zayn. It's nice to meet you." He just nodded in response.

Either he's really rude or really uncomfortable... I want to believe the latter because of the way his eyes flutter around anxiously when we make eye contact.

The elevator finally reached the ground floor, and I said goodbye, earning nothing but another nod from Zayn.

*~Zayn~*

That was the most awkward experience of my entire twenty-two years on this earth. I guess she didn't remember last night, thankfully. I think I may have let my worry show a bit too much, though. She definitely suspects something. What, I'm not quite sure, but definitely something.
I don't know why I'm even stressing out about it. It's not like anything happened. She sleepwalked to my apartment, asking for someone to hold her, I let her sleep on the couch... It was probably just a one-time thing, a coping mechanism for her fiancé leaving... I don't actually know.

Speaking of coping mechanisms, I was on my way to the art studio, and I had an idea for a piece. When I arrived, I got my supplies out of storage and immediately got to work.

People always ask me, "Why do you love art? What makes you want to pursue art as a career?" My response is a simple shrug, but I know why I really love art. Art is able to express and convey my emotions and feelings when words just aren't good enough. Getting lost in my creations, my imagination, my thoughts, hopes, aspirations, fears. That's why I love art.

I've had a few of my pieces showcased in a couple different art shows, but I've always preferred to keep them to myself. My art is kind of like a diary; you wouldn't necessarily want it put on display for everyone to see. Besides, I'd rather use a can of spray paint and a wall than a paintbrush and canvas.

"Hey, Zayn," my buddy Niall said, bringing me out of my thoughts.

"What's up, Ni?"

"Nothing, I just noticed you've been painting for the past three hours. Thought you might want a break," he shrugged.

"Um, sure," I said, glancing back at the paint drying to the wall. I'd never really taken pride in any of my work, but sometimes it felt good to look at what I created and just admire it.

"Cool. There's this cool sub place that just opened up... Wanna check it out?" he asked.

"Yeah."

The sandwich shop was nothing special, but the food was pretty good. I ordered a turkey jack panini, and the way it tasted was absolutely marvelous.

Niall was one of my really close mates, ever since Louis died. He's known me longer than most people, and he knows that I'm a pretty introverted person, so I really appreciate it when he doesn't try to push conversation between us.

Trying to focus on eating and what Niall was saying about football, I couldn't help but overhear what one of the waitresses was saying to another.

"Yeah, he just got moved to Austria, about two days ago. It's not as hard on me as it is on Nina, though. She certainly didn't take it very well," the brunette said. They're talking about Harry, aren't they?

She saw me looking in her direction and I quickly averted my eyes away. She made her way towards our table, asking if we needed anything else.

"No, I think we're good," Niall answered. The girl looked unconvinced, but returned to her friend.
I knew I shouldn't eavesdrop, but I wanted to find out more about Nina's situation.

"Anyways, it's hard for everyone, but it was really difficult for Nina and mum. Mum cried her eyes out," the brunette partially laughed.

"And you didn't? Gemma, you're his sister, you must've cried at least a little bit," the other waitress teased. Gemma. Sister. Oh.

That's Harry's sister.

Notes