sleepwalker || z.m.

"Zayn, honey, how have you been doing?" my mum asked over the phone. I rolled my eyes, tired of this question.

"Well... Um, I've been doing alright... I guess," I said, picking up a can of spray paint laying on the ground in the art studio.

"You know how worried I get about you. I talked to Louis' mum the other day," she said, quietly. I immediately tensed at hearing his name, accidentally dropping the spray paint.

"Yeah? What'd she say?" I asked, not really interested.

"She said she misses having you around."

"Mum, s'been nine years since I've seen her."

"I know, honey, but it's still nice to talk to her. She was like your second mum. And I think you're forgetting, she's still mourning, too," she said, voice soft.

"I'm not mourning," I protested. I didn't want pity. I didn't need pity. I needed Louis.

"Okay. Look, I just want you to be alright."

"Well, I'm doing fine. I'll talk to you later," I said, not listening to her response before hanging up the phone.

I sighed in aggravation, running my hands through my hair. I started pacing the room. The thought of seeing Louis' mum was something that scared me, because if I saw his mum, then I'd remember so much more. She'd start talking about him, and about how he loved to play football, and how good he could've been, and I don't think I could take that. Not now. Or ever.

I just wanted to scream at the top of my lungs. I threw my phone against the wall aggressively, hearing the satisfying shattering sound of the glass. I didn't bother picking it up, I just slumped against the wall, resting my arms on my knees.

God, I just wish this constant pain and depression would just go away.

If there was one thing that always worked for pain and depression, it was alcohol.

*~*~*~*

"What can I get you?" the bartender in an orange polo asked.

"Something strong," I said over the music.

"Anything in particular?"

"Nope," I replied.

Moments later, he returned with a short glass filled with a copper liquid. I didn't bother asking what was in the glass; I tilted my head back and poured the cold beverage down my throat.

"Another?"

"Definitely," I said after I gulped down the last of it.

*~*~*~*

Hours and many, many drinks later, I called Niall to pick me up. My thoughts were blurred, and I couldn't remember why I went to the bar in the first place. Good.

"How many drinks did you have?" he asked with a chuckle when we in the car.

"A lot. A lot, a lot."

"Don't you know that you shouldn't drink to forget your problems?"

"Don't you know that I don't care?" I slurred sarcastically.

"I'm just looking out for you. I know it's hard to forget Louis, but he wouldn't want you to mope over him," Niall said.

"Well thanks for reminding me why I decided to drink tonight," I muttered, resting my head on the headrest.

"It'll get better."

That's what they all said. They said it would 'get better'. It's been nine years. It's still not better.

I stayed silent for the rest of the ride and thanked Niall when we got back to my apartment. I stumbled out of the car, and tried to walk as normally as possible as I got inside the building. It was past two o' clock in the morning, so the counter attendant was no longer standing at his computer.

The elevator ride seemed to last an eternity. When the doors finally slid open, I pushed myself off the wall and began walking towards my apartment. I saw something next to the door, and no doubt, it was Nina.

Her body was laying on the ground, eyes closed. She was definitely asleep.

How the hell does she do that every night? What do I do with her?

I was too piss-drunk to carry her back to her apartment directly across the hall, and it was then that I remembered I don't have my keys. I left them in the apartment so that I wouldn't be tempted to drive home. I walked to the bar and had Niall drive me back. Great.

So, I sat there. I sat next to Nina, knees tucked into my chest. I knew I wouldn't get any sleep, so I just listened to Nina's sleep talking.

"I miss him. I miss him a lot."

Most of her sentences were a different variation of this one. I didn't respond, I didn't ask questions. I knew she was talking about Harry.

"I need him. I love him."

*~*~*~*

When the morning came, we were both still on the floor. I didn't sleep, and Nina rambled about Harry. Seven thirty rolled around, and I needed to get to work. I couldn't risk taking her to her apartment now, not when she's not in her deepest sleep.

Besides, she'll wake up soon. She'll be fine.

So, I quietly stood from my spot against the wall and left her asleep in front of my door.

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