Random Writing (2)


39. Zayn Imagine for Quinn

I had just gotten home from a year long tour. It had been tiring and I wasn’t in the mood to do anything but see my wonderful girlfriend, Quinn. Of course, she was over her friends house though. So I would has to wait.

I cooked up a lovely dinner of chicken Alfredo in a white wine sauce, with ravioli and a vinaigrette doused salad. Quite fancy, and very difficult to make. For me at least. I’m an artist, not a chef.

I set the table and laid out two plates of food, cheesecake with cherries for dessert. Now all I had to do was wait for my love.

I waited another half hour before I got concerned. I called Quinn’s number immediately.

Once the ringing had ceased I quickly asked, “Where are you?? You aren’t home and I am!”

Quinn could tell I was upset that she wasn’t home yet. How could I not be? The first time we’ve seen each other since I flew out six months ago for her karate tournament. I even made Italian food!

“I’m sorry, Z. I am on my way,” She said quite gruffly before hanging up and muttering curses.

None of that surprised me. It was typical Quinn style, Quinnesque, if you will. What did surprise me was the fact that she hadn’t acted like she forgot or was busy, but like she didn’t want to be here at all. That didn’t make me feel good about myself.

Ten minutes later she barreled through the door, slamming it against the wall as she kicked off her shoes. I walked out to go try and calm her down, but I stopped dead in my tracks. Quinn’s eye was swollen and purple, lips bleeding profusely, as was the wound on her head.

With a more through examination I could see her shirt was torn in various places to expose numerous gashes of varying sizes. Her pants were blackened and her legs bruised. Even her feet were cut and bleeding.

“What the hell happened to you?!?” I screeched out, worried but also annoyed she hadn’t called.

“Fight. Karate can get nasty, but it gets worse when you smack talk in an alley,” she growls. I deny that she’s mad she lost and just say its the pain.

“Forget dinner. I’m cleaning you up,” I say firmly. I knew she would go to a hospital, so I might as well do all I can.

She doesn’t argue and I carry her agilely to the bathroom before setting her on the edge of the tub. I dampen a washcloth and dab at her bleeding head and lips, staying gentle and steady as she explained in full detail what had happened.

By the time she was finished no blood trace could be found, the glass was out of the soles of her feet and she was bathed and looking almost brand-new.

“How about tomorrow I go find them and me and the guys with rough them up?” When she nodded I tacked on a: “But, for now, just a long nap, dinner, and some tv, okay?”

She nodded once more, but being her she had to add: “Hopefully not in that order.”

I laughed and shook my head, “Of course not, Q, of course not.”

A/N: Hope you liked it. Hope it wasn’t crap. I realize its not short, but shut up E. I suck at Q and Z and K and all them because I am not you and I cannot keep up with that all, so I hope some of this is correct. Love ya. Per usual, follow this lovely girl at….: tomliindone.tumblr.com

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