“Tell me what happened” Zayn urgently asked me, taking a seat right beside me on my bed as he walks into my room. The sniffling and sobbing has mostly ceased and I can talk much more normal now thank god.
“I hate him” I say. I’m not really in the mood to explain the whole thing to Zayn right now because I myself am still in a bit of shock.
“I know you do. I don’t blame you...is he always like this? I mean, I knew he wasn’t the world’s most loving father but, shit I never thought he would do this sort of thing…” Zayn states, running his fingers through his usually so well styled hair. It was now flat and strands of it were sticking everywhere. I couldn’t help but notice how stressed and emotionally drained he looked. Definitely different than the first time we met. I want to ask him why he’s so different but now isn’t the time.
“It started when my mother died” I say in a barely audible whisper. I knew it would be for the best if I just confessed everything I’ve been going through to someone else. It has been unhealthy to keep it in for so long but I’ve actually never had someone to spill my issues to anyway.
Zayn nods my way, grabbing my hand and squeezing it slightly. I take in a deep breath and prepare myself to tell all my secrets to this one boy. I just met him and I’m not even sure if I should since he comes off as a young irresponsible boy who buys joints from my own father. But a small voice in the back of my head constantly whispers “You can trust him” to me and I believe it.
“Well, when my mother passed he grew more and more violent. His temper grew shorter and his language grew more vular. I was just a young girl and had no idea what to do. I mean, he was my legal guardian and all I had left. So I had no courage to stand up to him and I still don’t to this day. He’s done this time and time before so don’t worry too much about me,” I mention staring directly into Zayn’s caramel eyes begging him to not show sympathy for me. That’s the least thing I want right now, “And well here we are today. I’m eighteen, still living with my dad because I’m a weak coward who can’t stick up for myself. Oh, and let’s not forget I deliver his valuable goods to his so called ‘friends’ who treat me like shit as well. I miss my mom and I do nothing outside of this house. I’ve never had a girl best friend or any for that matter. I’ve never had a sleepover, never went to a school dance, never had a boyfriend and live in fear constantly. And I hate myself for it.”
Zayn stays silent so I continue to rant on.
“I’ve actually fantasized about having a normal life and loving family you know? Multiple times. I’ve wished and wished for them but I know it will never happen. This is the card I’ve been dealt and no matter how badly I don’t want it I’m stuck with it. You’re the only real person I’ve ever trusted since I was ten years old”
“Wait, you actually trust me?” Zayn asks with a hint of surprise laced in his smooth low voice. I can tell he is trying to stay calm for my sake but my venting is getting him worked up.
“I do, I don’t know why but I do” I say nodding. He manages to half smile and I pull him into a tight hug. I needed it. I needed some feeling of comfort from another person more than anything right now.
I’m still very sore but in that moment I could’ve cared less if I was hurting. I was yearning so much to find comfort that I could have been hit by a car and not care. And I was so thankful for Zayn’s company in this beautiful moment. And in that beautiful moment I felt it. Something I hadn’t had in a long fucking while. Love and affection. I haven’t had any from my dad for years and no one else was around to really care for me and how I feel.
And now he was here. Zayn. The boy who I originally wanted nothing to do with. He was here and I knew he genuinely cared about me. And I really cared about him too.
“Thank you, for everything. I’ve never had someone this sweet in my life for so long...and it feels good” I say as we break apart.
“I’m glad I bumped into you on the street the other day. I’m glad I put my number in your phone and I’m glad you called me tonight” Zayn admits, a tiny blush creeping onto his cheeks, “But are you sure you’ll be okay?”
“Yeah, I’m used to it. I’ll just be a bit sore for awhile. I think I just needed someone to lean on”
“Well I’m honored that you chose me as the boy to lean on. And I’ll always be here if you ever need anyone to talk to, you know that right?”
“I know and I’m thankful for that. And Zayn?” I ask, not really sure what I’m thinking. I shouldn’t do what I’m about to do but it just feels right. But I’ve always been told to never get too comfortable with strangers who I’ve just met. But Zayn was different. He didn’t feel like a stranger. I felt as if I knew him my entire life and I didn’t want anything else more in that second.
“What is is Mar?” he asks leaning forward so our faces were mere inches away from each other.
I took that as my cue to smash my lips onto his. He was a bit surprised at first but started kissing me back quickly, not hesitating. We stayed like that for a while more, wrapped in each other while out lips were firmly locked together.
I couldn't be more happier than I ever was in that moment. It was like all the shit I've been through disappeared from my mind just because of one mysterious boy.