°•

The only time Crissle talked to Zayn was when she was leaving.

Leaving, as in, going back to the states and doing her job.

She packed her stuff in the suitcase, making mental notes of anything she had to get before her flight back. Zayn was going to be there in a few minutes and he had no idea she was leaving.

Crissle sat on her suitcase and carefully zipped it up, grunting in the process. She hopped off, picking out a t-shirt and leggings for her flight back home.

"Where are you going?"

"Home," because she already knew who it was, she kept putting on her new clothes and ignoring her boyfriend.

"Why?"

"Because," she felt the bed dip as she tied her shoes, "I don't need to be here and you need to get your shit together."

"What did I do?"

"Ask me every question under the fucking sun," she mocked him from last night, getting up and pushing her suitcase off the bed.

"Babe--"

"Don't call me that," she snapped, finally looking at him. Zayn had been looking a right mess lately, but this was the worst. He had a beanie on his head to hide his messy hair and the bags under his eyes were extra dark and larger than before. Zayn was still grieving, and his usually brown skin was pale besides the redness of his eyelids and nose.

"I--" he scratched the back of his neck, "I'm sorry, Cris."

"Sorry doesn't fix what you said about me, Zayn," she crossed her arms over her chest, "you don't get it, do you?"

"Get what?"

Crissle scoffed. "You don't see how I do so much shit for you, not even as an assistant, but as a girlfriend. Yes, you buy me nice things and take me places, but, you don't ever...bring up a conversation. It's always, 'Wanna go out?' or 'Come to my house' and sometimes, sometimes, I don't want to just have sex with you. It's not all about that. And then, then you think that you have so much control over me--"

"That's not--"

"It is. You literally called me dumb and stupid and you push me away when you're upset. I'm not someone that comes at your call. I'm not a fucking dog, Zayn. Your power over people has gotten to your head and I think you need to calm the fuck down."

"I don't..." Zayn sighed and sat back in the couch, "I don't think like that."

"What happened when we first got into an altercation?"

"I...pushed you."

"Because of what?"

"Because," he sniffled, "because I had felt that you needed to address me with respect."

"Respect."

"Respect my name and that's it. You shouldn't have acted like that--"

"There it goes!" she exclaimed, "there goes the power, the power that made you push me that first time. The same power that made you choke me the second. Power that made you call me out of my name."

"I never called you out--"

"I'm not stupid, I'm not dumb, nor am I scatterbrained. All of those terms apply. You insulted my intelligence and I'm telling you now that if you ever do it again I'm chopping ya dick off and feed it to Harley and Rhino."

Zayn flinched, looking away from her. "Um, okay...I'll just leave you alone."

"Don't do that either, idiot," she frowned, "makes it worse. Just...appreciate me."

"I do," he sounded so helpless.

"Then show me more. Show me."

"I have."

"In the beginning, yeah. But now.."

"I'm sorry," he wiped at his eyes and looked down, "please don't leave me. Please, please."

"I'm just going back to the states--"

"Crissle, please."

"Zayn," she sighed, walking over to where he was. She felt so bad for doing this. "I'm going to the states, okay?" he started shaking his head, "no, listen. I'm going to be at the office and I'll call you when I land. I want you to spend time with your family, okay?"

"Okay," he mumbled softly.

Crissle kissed his forehead. "Babe, I'm gonna go now."

Zayn chuckled bitterly. "I guess there's no use in staying here when I have a room back home."

Crissle smiled, standing up and dragging her suitcase and carry on to the door. "I'll see you."

"Have a nice flight," he smiled through his tears, "call me."

"I will."

°•

"Andrea?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you think I did the right thing?" Crissle sat in Zayn's office, the same clothes she wore on her flight clinging to her body. She texted Zayn when she landed, but he hadn't answered yet.

"By leaving? Yes."

"How? What's your take?"

Andrea sighed, leaning back in the chair across from her. "I think it's good for him. He's obviously still grieving, ya know? Let him focus on one thing at a time."

Crissle bit her lip. "Do you think I was too hard on him?"

"Nope."

"Do you--"

"What do you think, Cris?" Andrea asked, "your opinion matters, babe."

"I think I could have been just a little nicer since he did just lose a family member," she said honestly. Sometimes Crissle was way too lenient.

"Eh," she shrugged, "got the point across," Andrea got up and walked to the door, "I'll be back, want any food?"

"Where are you going?"

"Subway."

"Oven roasted chicken, please?"

"Gotcha."

Crissle looked down at her laptop, noticing a few emails that weren't opened yet. Most were contracts from the new building to be done in Miami, others were people who wanted to present an idea or anyone wanting to make new deals with Zayn.

Crissle's phone rang and she answered the FaceTime call from Zayn.

"Hey," she sat her phone against the computer screen as she read over a few contracts.

"Hey," Zayn spoke hoarsely.

"You good?"

"Mhm."

"You've been crying."

"Yeah," he admitted, "did you make it back safe?"

"I did. One piece."

"Okay."

"How are you, Zayn? Really," she wanted him to open up more. They had many deep conversations but not enough to know who he really was. Crissle did most of the talking while Zayn just listened.

"I'm...okay," he nodded as if he needed to reassure himself, "hey, I'll see you later, yeah?"

"Zayn..."

"Please? I'll talk to you later."

"Okay," she smiled.

He hung up and Crissle sighed. They had a lot to get through.

°•

respeck my name...all tree of y'all

don't hate me but I'm trying to prolong this and go deeper into the relationship

prince died and I'm still sad

and also my skin broke out everywhere because of stress so I'll talk to you guys later

bye xx