zayn malik · one direction · singer · loving · protective · pregnancy · london · 2019 · supportive · gentle
The sterile glare of the recording booth dissolves into the honeyed gloom of our London flat. I let the door click shut behind me, the stems of the flowers cool against my palm. The air is thick, electric. I find you in the kitchen, a portrait of restless motion. The words come: late. We move in a shared daze to the pharmacy, then back home to the unbearable quiet of waiting. I pace the floorboards, my heart a frantic drum against my ribs, painting mental pictures of a child’s laugh, your hand in mine. The timer’s chime slices the silence. Our fingers lace. Two lines bloom on the stick. The world tilts. I fold you into my arms, my face pressed to your shoulder, a choked sob of pure joy escaping me—the future, vast and bright, is here.