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"He lets go of me, looking sadly down at his toes for a moment.
Then his facial expression changes and it goes hard.

He looks over his shoulder to make sure no one is looking, and then he graps my arm, hard, and pushes me up against the nearest wall. I feel the cold, hard brick wall against my back and Zayn is like 3 cm from my face. His hands are resting on the wall on either side of my head.
I cannot move and I feel completely trapped. I can feel his body heat and his hot breath on my face.
I shiver. He scares me, but at the same time he is god damn sexy.

"Who have you talked to? Are people talking?" How does he even expect me to answer this when he's literally crushing me up against a fucking wall?"

A fanfiction about a new girl and the bad boy, Zayn Malik.


37. Drunk


Zayn's POV

I'm tired as fuck when I finally throw myself on my bed in my new bedroom. I still have a few boxes to unload, but at least most of my furniture have been moved here by the furniture removers my mum hired. That being said, I really need some more furniture. The apartment is not very big, but I only have the ones from my old room. I don't even have a couch or a dining table - or chairs for that matter.

My mum is taking me out to get the stuff I need tomorrow, at noon, after I get my new tattoo filled in. Kitchen equipment and all that. 

I'm surprised and grateful that she's doing all this for me, but at the same time I know I guess she feels like she owes to help me out at least - because she feels guilty about my shitty childhood even though it really was all my dad's fault - though I'm sure deep inside she is a bit relieved that I'm not gonna live home anymore. I don't blame her, I was more of a burden to her than anything else. 

Of course she never liked my partying, my social circle or how I frequently brought home girls. She knew about my job as a dealer, bit I think she also knew I was taking the drugs myself, but she never really said anything - even though she was always the one having to safe my ass when I visited the police station.
I know I haven't been the perfect son, but I am who I am. 

She isn't one to get angry, I only remember one time she threw a fit, because I had come home completely wasted, with a busted lip, and with blood smeared all over my face and knuckles, from fighting with some asshole. 

My brother was there, and she shouted in my face what a bad son, and role model I was for Jawaad, and how it made her sick how disrespectful I was towards girls. She basically told me to either get my shit together or leave, but she never followed her threats through of course.

I just remember telling her to "fucking relax," and mind her own business, and then I went to my room. Of course I knew she was right.
A bit later Jawaad entered my room and sat down on the floor, just watching me while I lit a smoke - knowing my mum wouldn't want me to smoke in front of my little brother, but I was pissed and too drunk to care.

"Don't hurt mum, she's just mad," He said, and I almost fucking dropped my smoke. I asked him who had told him about my - our dadThere was no way my mum would have told him about his violence.
He said that he didn't want me to hurt mum - "like I did those girls". I asked him what he was talking about, and he said he could hear it through the wall. I had no idea what to say to him, but there was no way I was giving him the sex talk, so I just told him they liked it and basically told him to fuck off.


I only just manage to lazily reach for the remote control and turn on the TV, when I get a text from Marc.

- Party at Scott's, pick you up in 15 minutes? 

 As much as I feel like just dozing off in front of the TV, I haven't hung out with my mates for what feels like ages. Besides Scott's parties are always a great time. He's a real one of a kind, - he seems like he's always a bit stoned, even when he's not. He dropped out of school two years ago, when he turned 18, and then started his own mechanic workshop. Bless him. 

- I'm in.
I answer and give him the directions to my new place. 


Scott lives in this big brick house, that he shares with 4 others in the outskirts of town. It's great for partying. 

Marc was already wasted when he picked me up, and as we arrive, he bumps clumsily into the car in front of us in his attempt of parking the car behind it. 
- "Oops," he chuckles, and takes another gulp of his half empty liquor bottle, that he has been holding on to for the entire ride.

There are a couple of girls sitting on the curb, smoking and talking. I recognize one of them, Nicole? An attractive yet easy blonde. She gives me a sloppy wave, and I give her a quick nod in return and walk inside the already packed house. 

We search the room for familiar faces and we find Scott, Noel and Jason in the back of the huge living room, sharing two couches with some girls. 

We join them and we play this stupid drinking game, called 'drunken tower' like we did when were like 16. Girls always love drinking games, but whine and complain every time they have to take a shot - fake of course. It's definitely an easy way of getting wasted fast. 

When the game is over, and we leave our little private sitting area, I'm already feeling my vision slowing down and my mind getting heavier. We walk through the crowd, me with a cup of something in hand, as we head towards the stairs leading upstairs. Some drunk girl tugs at my shirt and leans in to whisper something into my ear. Her black hair smells like apples, and it tickles my neck uncomfortably. I hand her my cup and keep walking. 

- "Davis!" I hear Scott's voice from behind me over the music. He whistles with two fingers in his mouth in tribute.
I turn around, surprised to find Jai, Jade's twin brother, next to Scott. What the fuck is he doing back in Bradford? I can't make any sense of how Scott know Jai. That little twat.

Jai gives me a friendly nod, and I give one in return, taking in his appearance. Hes wearing dark jeans like mine, and a tank top, showing off his new ink.

Last time I saw him, he had only a couple of tattoos on his shoulder and at his wrist, but he's got his right arm fully covered now. Fucking wannabe.


- "Want a line?" Scott asks, chopping the white powder with a credit card, getting rid of any clumps, and parts it into small white portions. 

I shake my head and take another big gulp of the bottle that seems to have glued itself to my hand. The fluid burns all the way down into my stomach. 
I stand against the door frame, watching each of the boys snorting a line of the white goods. I'm not even sure what it is. Knowing Scott, it could be anything.

- "His girlfriend wont let him," Jason laughs, rubbing his nose. Fuck you.

- "Girlfriend?" Scott says and raises and eyebrow in my direction. I take another gulp, shrugging my shoulders. 


They don't have to make their offer more than twice before my cravings get the best of me, and my drunken self end up doing a line. I do tend to do stupid shit when I'm drunk, but also it has just been so long since I've got my fix.

I know I promised Zoe not to do drugs anymore, but right now her voice in the back of my head sounds so distant that it just doesn't matter right now.


I end up having to walk home, after spending an hour more at the club down the road from Scott's house. The trip home isn't too short, but I don't bother calling a taxi, besides my phone has run out of battery.

I feel cold and dizzy as I start walking down the street. The light from the street lights is too bright and it hurts my eyes. I don't even bother using the sidewalk, since here's no traffic anyway.

That's when I make out the sound of a car, and my squinted eyes can just make out the headlights of a car, reflected off the wet pavement. 

The increasing sound of music, tells me that the car window is being rolled down. My mind instantly tells me to run. An instinct I have developed from being a former dealer, I guess. 

- "Malik?" I stop walking, and turn around, to the sound of Jade's voice.
Strange timing. I think to myself.

- "What are you doing out there? You're gonna get a cold, jump in,".


- "Been partying a bit too hard?" she teases. I ignore her, and she begins the hum along with the music. 

- "You got your radio fixed yea?" I ask. When we used to hang out, she always complained about it.

She nods, looking at me and clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth, as she turns the volume up to it's highest, almost blowing  my eardrums. 
I must admit she's got better sound than my own car.

- "Sick right?" she almost shouts over the music, nodding her head and mouthing the lyrics.
I nod approvingly. She turns it down again.

- "Actually, turn here," I say. "I've moved," I can't help smiling foolishly as the words leave my mouth. Fuck I'm drunk!

- "You moved out?! No way!" the excitement in her voice is evident. 
I nod. "Yea,"
- "You've been talking about that forever!" .
I have actually.

It's hard to find the complex in the dark, especially when not being able to think straight with the woozy feeling in my intoxicated body.

I step out the car, and dig into my jeans, for my apartment keys.
- "Wanna come inside and see?" I ask, slightly slurring.

- "Sure!"

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