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Summary
He won’t admit how cold his sheets are when he’s alone or how his spine aches for Liam pressed to it or the way his fingers shove unforgivingly into his stack of pillows when he thinks about Jackson drowsy on his chest or Annabelle’s soft face under the moonlight or how that one-story bungalow was the closest he’s felt to home since leaving Bradford.
(Re: Zayn loves this city, loves his boys, loves the salty taste of the surf on his tongue even though he hates the ocean... but he's not expecting to fall in love with Liam and all of his little secrets, too. Not enough to stick around in this sandy city of teenage dreams)