Broken Glass

17 year old Dianna Avery is anything but your average teenage girl, with a messed up past and a hopeless future. But when she meets Zayn Malik, a boy with some dark secrets of his own, can she finally let go?


2. Where Am I?

Hushed voices were the first things I heard as I slowly regained consciousness, and I lay still, concentrating on their conversation.

'Where did you find her, mate?' Someone said in a low, husky tone.

'She was just lying there in an alleyway...I heard footsteps running away, so I'm assuming...' The same velvety voice I'd heard before replied, trailing off at the end of his sentence. Judging by the silence that followed, whoever else was in the room was taking in what the voice was implying.

'What're ya' gonna do wit' her? Chirped another boy, this time with a loud, lilting Irish accent.

'Shh Niall!' A chorus of voices scolded him, and I counted how many individuals there were. I could identify two others, as well as the three that had already spoken.

'Sorry' The Irish one whispered.

'But seriously Zayn, what's your plan?' Said another voice softly.

'Well I suppose I should try and wake her up, find out a little more about her, and what happened...' The voice, who had now been identified as Zayn spoke.

As footsteps neared me I held my breath, unsure of what he was gonna do. A gentle pair of hands gripped my shoulders, carefully shaking me a little.

'Excuse me? Can you hear me?' His low voice inquired.

I cautiously opened my eyes, blinking at the harsh bright light that filled the room. But as my eyes adjusted, they widened when they saw the face in front of me. It was the most beautiful face I'd ever seen on a boy. Defined jaw and cheekbones, full lips, light brown skin, and eyes the colour of chocolate, framed by strangely long eyelashes. I blinked once more, struggling to speak. I almost recognised the face, but I wasn't sure where from...but before I could speak, a smile lit up his face, and he opened his mouth to speak.

'Hey there, my name's you have a name, love?'

I blinked again, struggling to respond, distracted by the the shadows his lashes were making on his cheekbones.

'I, I, I...' I stuttered, my mouth dry, trying hard to get a dignified response out of me.

'Hey now, it's alright, take your time'

'My name's Dianna' I finally choked out. 'Where...where am I? Who are you? What am I doing here? What happened to me?'

Questions came tumbling out of my mouth as I realised the situation I was in. Lying in a strangers flat, with little recollection of the night before and no idea where I was or who I was with.boy

'Woah, one question at a time yeah?' Laughed one of the other boys. I slowly sat up, looking around for who had spoken, my eyes taking in my surroundings. I surveyed the white walls, sleek black and metal furnishings and classy pictures, before finding the rest of the mysterious group of men. Three had brown hair, one curly, one with a quiff and the third with a sleek buzzcut. The other lad was blonde, and had a curious but friendly smile on his face. I turned to face Zayn again, who was waiting patiently for me to take everything in.

'Well, you're in mine and Niall's apartment at the moment' motioning to the blonde, who hesitantly waved. 'And like I said, my name's Zayn, and that's Harry' the curly haired boy smiled warmly 'and Louis' the one with the quiff grinned 'and finally Liam' He pointed at the last boy with the buzzcut, who smiled gently. 'Do you remember much of what happened last night?'

I shook my head, wincing at the pain that shot through my skull at the motion.

'Well...' He grimaced. 'I was out walking having a fag last night, and I heard your screams for help, so obviously I came to find you, and well, you were just lying there in the alleyway. I heard footsteps running away, so I kinda guessed what had just happened to you. You were hysterical, begging for me not to hurt you, and I knew I had to do something, I couldn't just leave you there, so I picked you up as you passed out and took you back here. You hurt your head pretty bad, so I patched you up and put you on the sofa, then called up the boys...and now you're awake' He explained, waiting for my reaction. I  whimpered as the events of the night before came rushing back. Leaving the club...the man...the attack...then nothing. Except the vague memory of the man in front of me now appearing to save me.

'I...oh god...' I whispered. 'Thank you...thank you Zayn.' I croaked, tears filling my eyes. 'I thought...I thought I was going to die back there in the alley, if you hadn't helped me...oh god...' I broke off, a sob wracking through my body. 'I'm sorry, I can go now, I won't keep you any longer, I'm sure you've got much better things to do-' Zayn pulled me into a hug, cutting me off mid apology.

'No! You're staying right here until you've calmed down, and we've figured out what to do with you' He told me firmly, stroking my hair. I pulled back, pulling up the blanket that was covering me. 'I...I don't know what to say...thank you...thank you so much' I gasped, leaning into the sofa cushions.

'S'alright, anyone would of done the same, especially for a lovely girl like you' He smiled, touching my arm. 'Um, do you want to borrow something of mine to wear? Just until I can get something else for fact, Louis, can you call Eleanor and get her to come over? Tell her what's happened yeah?' Louis nodded, taking out his phone and making his way over to the kitchen. I nodded hesitantly, and Zayn rose, jogging over to a door on the other side of the room and disappearing behind it. Liam came over and sat down next to me, and took my hand in both of his.

'My name's Liam' He smiled gently at me. 'Dianna, isn't it?' I nodded my head, and he smiled again. 'Well don't you worry yeah, we'll take care of you now' He squeezed my hand, and I smiled weakly. Harry and Niall were nodding, looking at me sympathetically. Zayn entered the room again, handing me a long sleeved shirt and some jogging bottoms.

'They might be a bit loose, but it's better than that tight dress you've got on right?' He asked, before gently pulling me up off the sofa and guiding me over to a door, presumably his room. 'Take all the time you need, there's a bathroom in there too if you want to freshen up' he said whilst pushing me through the door. He smiled again, before closing the door behind him. I turned away, clutching the clothes to my chest. My eyes travelled around his room. It was pretty plain, all sleek black and white, but there were a couple of photos of him, the other boys and what I presume was his family. I opened the white door which I guessed lead to the bathroom, and firmly closed the door behind me, locking it, before dropping the clothes and heading over to the sink. I twisted the tap, then leant down and splashed my face with cold water, trying to perk myself up a little, reaching for a towel to dry myself off with. My thoughts drifted to the idea of having a shower, but I decided against it, what with it being a strangers house and everything. Slowly I looked up and into the mirror, examining myself. My mouth dropped as I took in my reflection. I looked awful! My long dark hair was tangled into oblivion, last night's makeup smudged around my green eyes, not helping the dark circles already in place from my lack of sleep. I sighed, and went to work fixing myself, using my fingers to comb through my hair and swiping away the dark makeup residue, leaving my white skin fresh and clear. Finally I took some toothpaste and ran it over my teeth with my finger, before gargling water to finish up. Picking up the clothes Zayn had given me to put on, I went back into the bedroom and set them on the bed, reaching behind me to pull down the zip of my corset dress. I flushed in embarassment at the thought that this was what all the boys had seen me wearing, a slutty dress made for strippers and the like...god knows what they thought of me. I peeled it down and stepped out of it, leaving me in just the black lacy bra and pants I'd been wearing underneath. Quickly I reached for the shirt and pulled it over my head, checking to see if the buttons were all done up and not showing any skin, then shoved on the jogging bottoms, pulling the drawstring as tight as I could and tying it firmly. There was nothing I could do about the length of them however, they covered my feet entirely, pooling on the floor. Taking a look at myself in the full length mirror mounted on the wall, I grimaced. I looked messy, a slob, but there wasn't much I could do about that, so I took a deep breath and headed for the door. Just before I reached it, a picture caught my eye. It was of all the boys from the other room, gathered on what looked like a stage, grins on their faces, microphones in their hands. So they were singers...? I picked up the photo, studying it carefully. Something about the group of boys was nagging at a memory in my head. Where had I seen them before? I wracked my head, desperately searching for an answer. I didn't have a TV, and barely ever listened to the radio, but the boys and their names still sounded familiar. Zayn. Harry. Niall. Louis. Liam. Singers. A band? I dropped the photo in shock as it hit me. I was in a flat with One Direction.

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