Passion '2 (15+)

"Remember when I promised to love you forever?"


"Forever isn't over yet."


69. Rushing

"Emily, I need you to listen now. Not to argue back, or get upset." My dad said the next morning, when Zayn still was sleeping heavenly in my bed, in my room just up the stairs. I raised both of my eyebrows slightly, and kept on looking at my dad, with wide eyes. "You're a grown up woman now, though you're still only 22, and me and your mother knows you better than anyone else," He said, and I could tell that he not was much for talking about this, cause he breathed in deeply. Though it was a lie that they knew me better than any other. Not many people knew me, and sometimes I didn't even know myself. "What is this about?" I asked, and glanced at the stairs up the second floor. I could tell that what was coming up wasn't something I'd enjoy hearing. "I - we - your mother and I think that you should... That you maybe you've rushed your life a little too much the past years," He mumbled, and I hadn't seen my dad looking nervous about my reaction ever before. "What?" I opened my eyes even more, and found it hard to believe. 

I had been trying to avoid this talk for years, afraid to hear it, cause I knew how they felt about my way of living, but now all I felt was annoyed for them trying to tell me what to do. "I mean - and don't interrupt me - that maybe you should take a little break from boyfriends, and try to find a job, and start a carrier," My dad said, and it got harder for me to believe a word that he said.
I wanted to go in a defensive mode, but something kept me from not doing it, cause deep inside I knew that he was right. They were right. I was young, and I was hurrying more than I probably should be, but it was my life, and I did whatever I wanted.

He held a pause, and then he spoke again, "I'm just asking you to maybe be more... Mature about your choices,".

"Mature?" I said, a bit too loudly. 

He nodded.

"Don't you dare to tell me how to live my life! Very well that you're my father, but I am not a kid anymore, and I-"

"Emily, stop yelling!" My dad snapped, and I could feel anger build in my tummy. This time I went in defensive mode, trying to protect myself from the ugly truth. 

"I can do whatever I want to do! I can date whoever I want to, and live like I want to!"

"I'm aware of that, but since I'm your father, I have the rights to tell you whats right to do, and what's wrong to do," He spoke calmly. 

"So it's all of sudden wrong to date Zayn?!" I shouted, and took a step back, away from him. He sighed loudly, and breathed in deeply through his nose, "No, it's not. I'm not only talking about this... But for only two months ago you were happily engaged to a good guy, an-"

"HAPPILY ENGAGED? Where have you been? Under some fucking rock?!" I didn't mean to scream that loudly. My dad hissed at me, telling me to talk lower, not to wake my family up. 
"I want you to think about what you want with your life. If you really want to rush things this much, only in the age of 22," He said, and crossed his arms across his chest. 

"I'm not rushing things!" 

"You can try to deny it as much as you want, or you can admit it, and fix things." I had never had a fight with my dad, where he didn't yell at me, or almost kick me out. Maybe it was because he had learned that it didn't work. 

"I'm out of here!" I muttered, and took another step back, trying to fight against the anger in me, and the tears that were fighting to escape my eyes. My dad sighed, turned around, and walked out of the hall, and disappeared into the living room. When he was out of sight I rushed up the stairs, and pushed the door up into my room, praying that I didn't wake Zayn up. 

As I thought things couldn't get worse, my eyes met Zayn's. He was sitting on the edge of my bed, with his elbows on his thighs, and his face resting in his hands. "Maybe your dad's right," Was the first thing he said.

"No, don't even get started! Not you as well!" I shouted, and the tears floated over my eyes, and ran down my cheeks. Zayn looked tired, like hearing my fight with my dad had exhausted him. I breathed fast and almost gasped for air, like I did when I was crying.


"Where are you going?" He asked when I pulled on a thick cardigan, over my black tank top. I turned my eyes from the closet, to him. "For a walk," I mumbled, and took a deep breath, not bothering about the tears on my cheeks. His eyes were still tired, and he didn't have a single face expression on his face, not one that I could read. "Where?" He asked, and sounded somehow lifeless. 

"Out," I answered him, and slammed the door to my closet, and could almost hear my dad sigh down in the living room. The sound was echoing in my ears many minutes later.

"It's Christmas tonight," Zayn said, as I pulled down the handle to my room, and was about to open the door. I stopped what I was doing, and swallowed, "I know".

"Why don't we do something to clear our minds?" He asked. 

"That's what I'm about to do," 

"No, together." 

"I'm not in the mood for being stopped by fans today, not at all." That was true. I was not emotionally stable right now, and I'd rather be alone with myself and my thoughts today, than to pretend to be fine, while he took photos with younger girls. Not that I was jealous, but maybe today I would get - cause like I said, I was emotionally unstable today. 

"Then let's go somewhere else," He suggested. 


Zayn's P.O.V:


"Zayn, I'm really sorry for what my dad said," She whispered, and pulled her jacket and cardigan off her shoulders, and let them fall to down on the old wooden floor. I let my fingertips run slightly over the skin on her arm. Goosebumps were forming all over her skin as I touched her. I was standing behind her, close to her, but not close enough to let our bodies touch. My fingertips ran down her arm, and to her hand, that I grabbed from its back. I pressed her hand against her thigh, while still holding it. I moved my face closer to her neck, "I don't care about what he says," I whispered, and let my lips run over her skin so slightly that I barely touched it, but I could still feel her body turn tense under my touch. "Though he might be right," I moved my lips to her jaw, and could tell that she closed her eyes, and relaxed. She didn't say a word, and let me take over her. 
"But that won't make me stay away from you," I kept on whispering, seducing her, playing with her, driving her crazy. I moved her hand away from her thigh, and up to her chest, where I pressed it close to the bare skin, over her tanktop, to let her feel the beat of her own heart. Since my hand was holding onto hers, I could feel it as well. The speed. The blood pumping fast out in her veins, and making her cheeks turn rosa. The feeling of her being. Her life. "I want you to know what you mean to me." I held a pause, "I want you to forget every word that your dad said, cause we both know that you believe in them". 
She breathed in deeply, and I could feel her chest raise and sink. I moved my lips back to her neck, and pressed them against the skin under the ear, letting my tongue slip out between my lips, and slightly touch her skin. "I won't leave, not even if you ask me to," I whispered, and when I once again kissed her neck, I could hear her moan silently. "We will both prove your parents wrong. We're not here to leave. You and I, we'll make it," I kept on speaking to her, telling her the honest truth. 
"Emily, I want you to know that I do love you,". 

She tensed up, and turned her head to look at me. Her eyes were wide open, and she looked scared, but I couldn't tell from what. We stood there, eyes locked together for many seconds, until her lips touched mine, and she turned around, to face me, while keeping our lips dancing along with the melody of our hearts. She sneaked her hand around my neck, and I sneaked both of my hand down under her bum, which made her jump, and soon I had her legs wrapped around my waist, and her arms around my neck. 


Every lonely night,

Every drunken fight,

We're gonna make it right. 

I know. 


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