Freedom Isn't Only Physical(One Direction Fanfic)

Mary(also known as Mars Bars) was one of the girls you would consider popular. She had a normal life, better than the average person would--but when her father is murdered during a day at work, her mother becomes an empty shell. After a night the both regret, Mary leaves her house in search of a new life--and just so happens to run into five boys that change her life.
(Fanfic about One Direction... and a specific boy. Taken at a realistic pace(I hope). I don't own the cover image!)

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22. Before You Heal, You Must Be Torn (5)

"What are you doing here? Where are the others? Dude, there are so many cameras outside... Your outfit is horrible! I'm rambling, aren't I? Oh, Zayn, I am freaking out. Why are--" I began, but got interrupted by a much calmer Zayn.

"Hey, calm down," he cut me off, waving his hand gently in the air and smiling at me reassuringly. "It's expected. When One Direction spends a lot of time dodging fans and with a beautiful girl in her hotel room... eventually things will catch on, yeah?"

My eyes widened and my heart thumped a tiny bit. A blush colored my cheeks and I looked down, chuckling. He thinks I am beautiful?

"Anyway... I'm going to take this horrible outfit off," he huffed. I looked back at him and laughed again. He stood at an angle, hand on hip. Zayn wore a way-oversized green hoodie and tight black pants with purple pumps, and to top it off, a huge hat that covered his face (most of it, anyway). He was shouldering a pack that hopefully had other clothes in it.

"Please, do," I giggled softly, sitting down on my bed and waiting as he went to the restroom.

He returned a few minutes later, dressed normally. Dressed cute.

"Yay! You don't look insane anymore!" I gasped, clapping lightly for fear anyone outside would hear our light banter.

He scowled playfully at me and sat down on the sofa.

"Anyway... why are you here?" I asked, grabbing the remote from his hand before he could turn it on. I noticed he looked a bit crest-fallen, a bit ... different.

He sighed, twiddling his thumbs and looking down. "...Perrie broke up with me," he moaned. It was then I noticed his eyes were a bit red around, his hair slightly disheveled, his nose running a tad.

Oh, no. Poor Zayn... I almost began to cry. He was obviously beat up because of this. I scooted closer on the couch to him, slinging an arm around him. He buried his face into the crook of my neck and I pulled him closer, my heart pounding hard as ever.

Other than the rapid blood rushing around in my head, I heard one solemn voice echo:

Before you heal, you must be torn.

For some reason, I had a feeling that applied to Zayn...

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