That's How We Fell! (ft.Zayn Malik)

Chapter 62

~Ray~

I stood in the balcony, leaning my body against the railing as I sipped on my bottle of beer. I sighed, gulping more of the bitter liquid, trying to keep my fvcking emotions at bay. The previous night had me having a roller coaster of emotions.

Zayn.

Things that name could do to me.

I sighed and sat on the couch, thinking about the past week.

Silence. Awkwardness. Fights. Frustration.

It was like these were the only thing we knew and did. I understood that it's the frustration of the break, but sometimes I didn't know what to do.

There wasn't one conversation I could think of from the past days that didn't end up with us fighting and sleep in different rooms.

And here I was on New Years Eve not knowing what to do with myself. I just wished he was at home. We didn't have to do anything, I just wanted him to be the last person I saw this year.

I missed him.

So much.

His kisses, hugs, the sex.

I missed everything. And it's only a week since I suggested the break.

The honeymoon stage of our relationship was over and now that we were forced into reality, it was kind of hard to assimilate. The only times we saw each other was in the night, because we difficult with our rehearsals and signing and events.

It was stunning how our conversations could shift from a simple, 'how was rehearsal' to a 'you know what?! Fûck you!'

It hurt.

I felt that the two of us were getting nowhere in the relationship. The break didn't look like it was helping. Just made things worse. I just wished that it hadn't happened that fast. My train of thoughts were shot down when there was a loud bang on the door, like someone was trying to throw themselves at it. I frowned for a bit and wondered if it was Zayn because he was not back home. I got off the couch and walked over, only to swing open the door and dodge Zayn's fist from hitting my nose.

"Zayn." I scowled, but when I took in his appearance, I gasped, subtly. He was stumbling and shaking, his feet barely able to hold his weight. His hair was messy, his clothes reeked of alcohol and sweat, the odour of cigarettes, wafted through the air making me choke. He started walking inside the flat, before he staggered. I caught him right in time so that he didn't fall face first and hurt his face.

"God, Zayn! You're wasted!" I scolded and held him by his waist. He looked down at me and casually threw his arms around my shoulders and I shivered at his touch. His first touch, since the break.

"Why do you care?" He slurred and I shook my head.

"You're my boyfriend, Zayn," I explained, leading him to the bedroom which was difficult because he barely could focus on what was in front of him. He put his entire weight in me, relying on me to guide him. Wow, way to end the year.

"No." He stopped in his tracks, inspite of my efforts to pull him along.

"Zayn, stop being difficult," I chided him and he frowned.

"I'm not your boyfriend. We broke up," he said, pouting his already plump bottom lip.

"What? No, we're on a hiatus." I pulled him and he let himself loose.

"We are?" He questioned, sounding sober.

"Yeah, we are." I finally led him to bed, making him sit on the edge of it. I pulled his leather jacket off before, quickly pulling his grey v neck off. I helped him off his tight jeans after, pulling his combat boots off his feet. I threw a pair of sweats at him, which he stumbled into. He again sat on the edge of the bed, looking at as I grabbed him a glass of water. I kneeled in front of him, giving the glass to him. I had this strong urge to reach over and touch him, but I held back. Zayn suddenly paled before he shot up, running over to his ensuite. I knew what it was for, and I followed him. I watched him as he threw up over and over again until he dry heaved. I stood behind him, rubbing his back, gently, running my hands through his dark hair. He finally rested his arm on the closet, leaving his forehead against it. I pulled the tissue roll and handed it to him as he wiped his mouth and flushed the closet.
He looked flushed, his breathing was erratic and he still managed to shoot me a smile which I weakly returned. He leaned back on the wall pulling his knees to his chest, staring at me, his eyes not leaving me for a brief second. I took his mouth wash out of the cabinet and sat across him, my legs crossed. I handed it to him with him offering me a grateful smile. He stood up and swayed as he grabbed his tooth brush. His hands were shaking from the tiresome puking and so I stood up. I held his shoulders and jumped into the counter, taking the brush from Zayn. Zayn looked confused but didn't question my motives. I parted my legs to accommodate him in between. Once he stood in between my knees, I cupped his chin and forced it open. I put his brush in his mouth and started brushing his teeth for him. He looked like a little kid, as his eyes lit up at my gesture, his eyes all Bambi like. I brushed the corners of his mouth with his flavoured toothpaste and took an opportunity to put his hands on my thighs. Finally he spit the froth out and rinsed his mouth before plopping on the floor again.