You had me at hello - a Zayn Malik fan fiction (not famous)

19 years old Irene has a normal boring life in Italy, until the day she leaves for the U.K. with her best friend Alice. There, she meets Zayn, the most beautiful boy she has ever seen.
Love, friendship, jealousy and drama mess up Irene's new life, giving her the chance to find what she has been looking for.


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49. "You're my girl"

So, this is how things went on: Alex called Alice, begging her to tell him my address. By coincidence, Harry was at Louis and Alice’s flat in that moment, and they both heard Alice’s conversation. He asked for information about the boy and eventually left. But, funny fact, he had planned to meet at a pub with Zayn that night. And, being Harry the justice defender he is, he couldn’t help but report Zayn what was going on, between a beer and another. When both Zayn and Harry were drunk enough to make perfectly wrong decisions, they walked till my flat, and posted outside, waiting for Alex to show up. It didn’t take long for the boy to find my house, and as soon as he reached the main door of my building, Zayn tiptoed after him, and followed him upstairs, waiting for the right moment to show up and make a scene.

“ZAYN?” I scream, angry, happy and sad at the same time.

“What are you doing here?!” he angrily points his finger at Alex, being visibly drunk and upset. “She doesn’t want to talk to you! You broke her heart and you don’t deserve her back!” he claims loudly, getting closer to the boy.

Alex raises his hands trying to calm Zayn down. “Wooh-oh, mate, calm down! I just wanna talk to her, don’t get mad…” he says firmly, stepping back when Zayn reaches him.

It’s a matter of seconds, I don’t even have the time to realize what’s happening:  suddenly Zayn punches Alex right on the nose, making him move back and fall against the wall.

I let out a scream. Zayn stands right in front of me, his angry eyes locked on Alex, his fists still closed and shaking, his mouth clamped and his chest moving fast as he gasps.

Alex is on the floor, his back against my living-room wall, his hand on his bleeding nose. He moans in pain and gets up with difficulty, holding on a chair, gazing at the blood on his hand.

“YOU’RE CRAZY!” Alex shouts at Zayn. “I didn’t do anything to her, you piece of…”

“Alex you should leave!” I cry, making the boys heads turn to face me with a quizzical look.

“What?” he asks, unable to believe that he’s being thrown out, not the boy who just broke his nose. “Irene, I wanted to talk to you and he jus…”

“I know, you’re right…” I turn around and walk past them, rush in the bathroom and grab a bunch of bandages. When I get back in the living room, the boys haven’t moved.

“Take these, keep your head up.” I order as I delicately put the bandage on Alex red face. “There’s an hospital right behind the corner, you walk past the red building and you’ll be in front of the main entrance, they’ll fix your face…” I say, my voice calm, without any commiseration or displease.

“If you need money to pay the treatment, I’ll give you some money...” I conclude.

“Irene, why are you doing this, he’s the crazy one who punched me, you don’t need to be doing this, and who the fuck is he, how dares he come in and…”

“Stop.” I firmly interrupt Alex’s speech. I breathe out, wanting to spell my words as calmly as possible.

“You don’t have an idea of how many times I wanted to punch you and broke your nose, believe me.” I say with a low tone. “Let’s just pretend this is from me, ok?”

Alex holds my gaze, still pressing the bandage on his hurting nose. Then he turns his eyes on Zayn and shakes his head. “I hope this asshole is not your boyfriend.” He mutters.

“Don’t worry, Alex.” I reply, leading him to the front door. “I’m quite used to deal with assholes.”

I follow him with my eyes as he walks along the corridor and takes the stairs, hoping this time he’s getting out of my life for real.

I close the door and sigh. I close my eyes trying to erase this feeling of tension, anger, fear, sadness that is almost overwhelming.

“Irene…” Zayn drawls.

I swiftly turn around and lock my eyes on his. He’s wearing a red Nike sweater, he’s cut his hair and his stubble has grown longer. But while I look at him, I’m scared that all he used to mean to me, all the time we spent together, all the feelings I’ve grown up for him might be spoilt by the disappointment and the fear I’m feeling now.

“Zayn, you’re drunk.” I sentence staying calm.

“I’m not drunk, I’ve just drunk a few beers with Haz…” he says shaking his head in denial.

“Why did you do that?” I cry, while my heart races recalling the violence and anger I saw in his eyes just some minutes ago.

“Why was he here?” he asks, turning angry again.

“He wanted to talk to me! That’s not a good reason to punch him and break his nose!!” I scream, walking towards Zayn.

“I was protecting you. Cause you’re my girl.”

Hearing these words, I immediately picture myself sitting on the couch right behind me, all those night of sorrow and loneliness I’ve spent and all the tears I’ve cried.

“Your girl??” I say with in a weak voice, not even finding the energy to talk. “If I’m your girl, why did you let me cry and cry all these days, without calling me, texting me or answering my messages, Zayn? I can’t be your girlfriend just when you’re in the right mood or you’re drunk! I really don’t know how you behaved with Perrie and your other exes, but to be honest, I don’t think I’ll be able to put up with your moody, aggressive, selfish temperament for a long time!”

As soon as I finish my speech I collapse on the sofa, exhausted, drowning my face in my shaking hands.

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