Haven

Opening the door of the library, a deep frown appeared on my face when all I saw was dust, a hundred moving boxes and piles of books scattered all over the area.

The posters were ripped off the walls, along with some wallpaper, men painting over it instead with a white, fresh, colour.

Hesitating, I still stepped inside, looking for Hannah. It was my coaching hour with Zephaniah, after all, and I didn't want to make him think things when I wouldn't show up.

Eventually, after stepping over a few books and boxes, I noticed Hannah, her hand resting on her stomach as she stared at the thousand books laying around.

I smiled, walking over to her. "Where to start, huh. So many books, if only I could read them all in my lifetime." I spoke up, looking around.

"Haven," Hannah smiled, removing her hand from her stomach. "Where's Zephaniah?" She wondered, confusion written on her face.

"I was wondering the same thing. That's why I came here," I said sheepishly, looking at her. She was so young. Although Tara had explained quite a lot about their family relations and all, I still didn't understand how that worked.

"Oh," Hannah sighed, shaking her head. "We're redecorating the whole library, changing the places of the shelves, sorting our book collection. I told Zephaniah that maybe you could do this at our house, but he didn't tell you?"

"I haven't seen him," I answered, feeling slightly disappointed that he hadn't told me, as it made me feel like he wasn't looking forward to the coaching hours.

"Yeah, it's a big change. He probably hadn't quite followed what I was saying. Sometimes he doesn't really know how.." Hannah trailed off, stopping her sentence mid-way. "Anyway, my husband should be home. He probably picked him up. I'm so sorry. Do you still want to go? You don't have to if it's too much,"

"No, that's totally okay. I've got a car with navigation and although it's so old that it sometimes leads me to the ocean when there's not one near here- I should be able to find it," I couldn't help but laugh, muffling it as I pressed my hand to my mouth. "Unless, he doesn't want to?" I suddenly realised.

Hannah laughed as well, her hand finding its way towards her stomach again, I wondered why. "He wants it. It belongs to his Wednesdays. Here, this is our address.."

Once I had gotten the address, I thanked Hannah and made my way over to the car, switching on the navigation and typing the right address into it. It loaded for about five minutes to register all the roads and once it had finally chosen one, I started the car and drove off to where the monotone voice took me.

Soon, the busy student area faded to the background, high trees and calm roads appearing instead. I drove past a park, where children were playing and swinging, it changing to a field with a pond, ducks quacking loudly when someone threw bread into the water. Eventually, I slowly arrived at a very cosy looking neighborhood.

People were outside, taking care of their gardens, children playing in the small playground near the houses. It was about five minutes later when I parked my car in a street with decent looking houses, the ones I lived in myself. The typical English ones, with brown or reddish stones. It was the way you looked at it, Jude always said.

Peeking inside, I was quite disappointed when I couldn't see anything, though, the small name plate near their house number, confirmed that I was at the right one. Pressing on the bell, I played with the ring I had put onto my middle finger as I waited for the door to be opened.

The house looked cosy, the type of house any starters, young couples, wanted. The small garden was neatly taken care of, fresh flowers stacked in small rush baskets underneath the windows on the front.

For a moment I wondered if nobody would be home, but as Hannah told me her husband would be, and therefore Zephaniah, I waited patiently, looking up when the door swung open, successfully startling me out of my thoughts.

"Hi..?" The man around his mid- thirties stood in the doorstep, an unsure smile on his face as he ran his fingers through his thick, black, hair. Zephaniah resembled him a lot, and since Tara had told me Zephaniah had young parents, I figured this had to be his father.

I smiled back, stretching my arm out to him in order to shake his hand. "Hi! I'm Haven, I'm, uh," what was I? I helped Zephaniah, but I disliked to call myself a coach or such.

"Oh!" The man's smile widened, his eyes squinting lightly. "You help my son in the library, yeah?" He spoke, his Northern accent strong. I hadn't grown up in Bradford, so it was clearly audible.

"Yeah! Exactly. That's me," I smiled a little more, nodding.

"Come in, come in." He took a step aside for me, closing the door behind us once I was inside. "I'm Zeph's father, but call me Zayn."

"Alright, it's nice to meet you." I said genuinely, taking off my shoes and placing them on the doormat, noticing a bit of mud underneath them. Gulping lightly, I hung up my coat and turned around, facing him. "My shoes had mud underneath them, can I clean it up?"

Zayn shook his head, chuckling. "No, it's alright. Had to vacuum later today, anyway." He smiled at me, opening a door that led us out of the small hallway. "Sorry for not recognizing you at first. Zephaniah has told me about you, but, I thought he called you Heaven?"

For some reasons, my cheeks heated up lightly. "Yeah, he forgot." I laughed softly, entering their living room, which was white and grey themed. Modern, but also Scandinavian, which was something I loved.

"I see," His father smiled, pointing at the couch. "Uhm, he wasn't feeling too well, so he's sleeping upstairs but feel free to sit down. He'll be upset waking up to find out you'll not be working with him."

"Okay," I hesitated, wondering what he meant with it. Maybe it was his structure, thinking back about his to- do- lists at University and Hannah's words. It belongs to his Wednesdays. "Is he alright, though?"

"Totally, yeah. His heavy headaches just usually lead to seizures, so he didn't want to take any risks. He's fine, though, Probably slept his headache off." He explained, making me nod slowly and think about what he just said.

Sitting down on a yellow, very comfortable, chair, I allowed my eyes to finally move through the house, them falling on a few photo's that caught my attention, but before I could shamelessly stare at them- his father started talking to me.

"Do you want anything to drink, Haven?" His father asked from over the kitchen, opening the fridge. "We've got coke, chocolate milk, although that'd be a bit weird at this time of year- I blame my son- strawberry lemonade, tea, coffee?"

Smiling at his words, I thought about it for a while. "Oh, strawberry lemonade is fine. Thank you,"

Not much later, he returned with tea for himself, strawberry lemonade for me and Zephaniah's Nike water bottle filled with fresh water. Placing it onto the table I thanked him, taking a cookie off the plate he had placed onto the table after that.

"So, have you adjusted to your new school life already?" He questioned, taking a bite out of his cookie as well.

Nodding, I swallowed my mouthful before answering. "Yeah! Pretty well, actually. I'm really enjoying it. I was sad to leave High School at first, but this is something new, something different so it's good. Yeah, I'm definitely enjoying it."

"That's good," He smiled at me, wiping crumbs off his trousers. "We're very happy that you're helping Zephaniah."

"Oh, I'm happy to help him too. He's quite interesting, if you ask me." I admitted, though, didn't mean anything with it.

Zayn smiled softly, staring at some of the photo's with a fond look on his face. "That, he is. Anyway, Hannah called dibs on having her cooking- free evening, so I'm just going to start after waking Zephaniah. I'll be around the corner,"

"Yeah, sure." I chuckled, watching him as he left the living room, walking upstairs.

Playing with my fingers for a while, I wondered how Zephaniah would react once he saw me here, as I still wasn't sure about the fact if he was waiting for a coaching hour. Sighing at my own thoughts, I patted Cooper's head as he suddenly walked over to me as he came downstairs, his brown eyes full of wonder.

Not much later, a tired looking Zephaniah stumbled down the stairs as well. Almost all of his black, feathered, hair was tucked underneath his beanie, just a few stubborn strands and his fringe peeking out.

"Hi, Zephaniah." I said quietly, not wanting to startle him.

"Haven," He gulped once he saw me, his voice barely above a whisper, his cheeks tinting pink. He reached for his water bottle that was placed on the table right away and took a few sips after he had uncapped it, his eyes moving over to Zayn as he re-entered the room.

"Slept well, Zeph? How's your headache?" He said quietly, staring at Zephaniah.

"Fine," Zephaniah answered, his eyes shyly averting to the floor after we briefly made eye contact. "Uhm," He hesitated, standing up and bringing his lips to his water bottle again, swallowing more down.

"Do you want to revise and work out our notes?" I started, noticing he didn't know what to say. Perhaps, him drinking his water bottle was a habit of his when he didn't know what to say or do.

He nodded, walked over to the kitchen to fill up his bottle again and returned not much later. "Uhm, we can go upstairs." Zephaniah said quietly, swinging his backpack, that was previously on the floor, over his shoulder.

"Yeah, if that's okay." I glanced at his father, not knowing if he minded, as his eyebrows were furrowed.

"No more filling up your bottle again, okay?" He told Zephaniah, who frowned but nodded, nonetheless. "It's fine, Haven. Good luck, guys." He waved us off, returning to the kitchen.

We silently walked up the stairs, I followed Zephaniah, Cooper followed me. He led us over to an also grey and white themed bedroom, a boxspring in the middle of it with white and black checkered covers. Plants were standing on the windowsill, one or two hanging which made me wonder where they had gotten it from, as I had wanted them for such a long time.

Zephaniah sat down on the bed and glanced at me while he fiddled with his fingers, smiling when Cooper sat down at his feet. "You can sit." He said quietly, glancing at me again.

"Sure! Can I be really curious about something?" I asked him, to which he nodded after a while. "Why can't you fill your bottle again?"

Zephaniah laid the bottle onto the bed, watching me as I sat down beside him. "Oh, uh, I drink too much."

"Too much? They can't say that about me. But, drinking a lot of water is healthy, right? That's what they always say." I wondered, softly petting Cooper's head.

"I- it is because of my medication," He elaborated, still fiddling with his fingers. Cooper stuffed his snout into his hands, stopping Zephaniah from fiddling. "Epi- Epilepsy medication makes me very thirsty,"

"Oh," I answered, curiously looking at him. "So, it's not healthy to drink too much?"

Zephaniah's tongue rolled over his upper lip, slowly shaking his head. "I got sick last time, uhm, I drank six liters." He blushed lightly, turning the bottle around in his hands. "Is because if you do not have enough sugars and salt the cells will swell up, blood will thin and nerves get- get pinched."

That was thought through, which made me smile slightly at him. I was genuinely surprised about his detailed answer. "How are you feeling now?" I wondered, feeling like another small talk before we would actually start.

Zephaniah chewed on his cheek from the inside, his eyes roaming all around, but his gaze never falling onto my face. "Good," He said quietly, scratching Cooper's ears as he rested his head onto Zephaniah's lap. "Sleepy," He added after a while, giving me a sheepish smile as he glanced at me.

It made me feel content. It seemed that he wanted to talk- he just didn't always know what to say. "I can imagine, you just woke up. This bed is comfy, it makes me want to sleep too." I mumbled, giving him a soft smile.

Zephaniah returned it and stared at his notebook for moments long, then lied down onto his stomach, his chin resting in his hands, his elbows propped upon the bed. He didn't say anything, just kept glancing at me for split seconds, returning his gaze to his notebook.

Lying down beside him, I kept looking at him, until he glanced at me again, a tiny smile creeping upon his lips, though his cheeks colored the lightest shade of pink.

"You want to start?" I wondered, my eyes still staring at his face, as if that would figure him out completely. Because, he was so interesting, so intriguing that I couldn't help but want to know and see more of him each time we were together.

Zephaniah nodded slowly and searched for his neatly written notes, shoving his notebook towards me while his expression softened, becoming shy.

"Alright, let's start. The two senses of Philosophy.."

~~~

Zeph is backkk. Noticed some of you sorta missed him? I guess.. maybe.. in last chapter. Anywho,

Thoughts? Do you think Zeph will open up to Haven soon? Will get withdrawn because she is rather chatty and it goes too fast for him?

Reason why he's so quiet?

I'm curious!! (Sorry for grammar mistakes, typos, etc. I'm dutch, kay ): and Tina knows whaddup when you write sometimes)

Question for you; are your holidays over?