it's been seven months, sometimes zayn can't breathe for being suffocated by all of the emptiness around him. it's just that, he hadn't really realized how much his life had become zaynandliamandniallandlouisandharry, until it just wasn't anymore.

it's been seven months, and he's still finding them everywhere. a pair of shoes louis left once, laces tangled. a handful of harry's rings, scattered in his mess. a jersey niall bought sitting right next to him. too many of liam's shirts, folded neatly in the bottom of his drawer.

it's been seven months, and he still won't talk about it. still can't talk about it. so instead he puts together a mixtape and listens to it at night, when he can't sleep because the darkness is threatening to swallow him whole, and it helps.

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