Befour( A Zayn Malik Fanfic) COMPLETE!!!

Twenty four✓

A dog with a limp

Jason returned to school the very next day and had a plaster around his nose. The area around his nose was purple and swollen. He also had a slight limp as he walked alongside Adam and Darren to the bleachers. "Can you believe that Zayn got suspended and he didn't?"I scoffed, shaking my head.
"I can. Zayn practically broke his nose," Cilla shrugged. I took a bite of my apple, choosing not to reply. "So," Cilla began. "I talked to Adam."
"You always talk to Adam, what's different this time?" I couldn't help how rude I was.
"He ended things," her lower lip trembled as she fought back tears.
"Oh no," I said, grabbing her hand. "You did not take it well did you?"
"No," she shook her head, sobbing. I glanced around at the faces around us, not able to conjure up a decent reply. I felt bad for being so rude to her in the beginning.
"I- I hate Zayn," she suddenly cried, hands covering her face. "What?" Maybe I didn't hear her correctly.
"I mean...he's the reason Adam and I broke up."
"And what makes you so sure?" I asked, voice cold and curt. "You know what? Let's just change the topic," I sighed when I realised arguing with her would be pointless. To even think I thought of telling her about Zayn and I going exclusive.

***

Zayn's POV

"Come, let me read you a bed time story," My mother says, and I nod eagerly. I crawl into my comfortable bed and try to enjoy this as much as I can. Before HE returns home from whatever dangerous activity he's been up to. Or better yet, which new mistress he's been seeing. I suspect this one's name starts with "J". I couldn't decipher much from the blurred Caller ID I caught a glimpse of whilst he was "punishing" me. His punishments are basically beating me until I can't even count to ten and telling me to hide in a corner somewhere he can't see me. That last part is practically easy since our house is so huge.  But he hasn't always been like this. There was a time when he was  the best father ever, and I would geniunely scream with excitement whenever he was home. Yes, scream. Until he  inherited 'the business'. It did to him what I fear it will do to me one day. My teacher says that I'm too mature for an nine year old. But I think it's alright. I reckon that's how life is really. After the bedtime story, she tucks me into bed properly, and kisses me goodnight. I love her. More than I will love anyone in the world. "Mommy loves you, okay? Don't you ever forget that. Daddy loves you too but Mommy loves you the most," She whispers tearfully before leaving me in my huge but lonely bedroom. She whispers this to me every night but I still don't believe her. It's all a lie. If daddy loves me he wouldn't do this to me. To her. I have all the toys in the world, a live in staff to cater to my every need. Chocolate, sweets, name it and I have it. But I'm not happy. Why you ask? I don't know. Isn't that what every nine year old wants? But yet again, not every nine year old is the son of Jameel Malik. A few minutes later, I hear my mother's quiet sobs floating across the hallway and into my slightly ajar bedroom door. It's the same every night really. When I hear the front door open and his footsteps walking up the stairs, my heart beat quickens as I still. He punished me this morning. I hope he won't return for more. When my door slowly opens and I bestow my eyes on the scary silhouette at the doorway, I bite my tongue in an effort to stop from crying out to my mother. I flip over and face the wall, pretending to be asleep. But he doesn't fall for it. "I know you're awake, buddy," he says softly, and just like that I know he's not here to punish me. On very rare occasions, he returns to his former cheerful self. But it only lasts a few minutes, a few minutes that will cost us an hour of insults the next morning. "Do you want to watch a movie?" He asks, kneeling down beside me."No," I truthfully answer. "It's way past my bedtime. Mommy would never let me."
"

Screw her. What she doesn't know won't hurt her." She actually knows more than she lets on. Maybe because in her case, ignorance is bliss.
"I'm really sleepy," I lie, making sure to cast in a convincing yawn. He sighs, getting up.
"You need to stop being so afraid of me. Especially because soon enough, it'll just be you and me." And with that, he leaves the room. I ignore his comment, and bid it as one of the many insults he throws my way daily. But what I didn't know was that I wouldn't see my mother ever again.

•
A/N

Heyy beautiful people!!!!! I really hope you enjoyed catching a glimpse of Zayn's childhood. I actually left some Easter eggs somewhere in there that will make sense once the ending is finally here. I actually thought that we were almost finishing but I reread the original manuscript and turns out, we have a LONG way to go. So hop on and enjoy the ride. I actually had so much fun writing the Zayn bit because it was a break from the cliche highschool drama. By the way, it was not planned at all. I just decided on a whim to write that POV just so the ending makes a little more sense. Just to polish up the story and tie a few loose threads. I'm actually aware that there's going to be a ton of plot holes by the time I'm done with this book, but I just don't care anymore. I love writing and accept that I'm the most terrible at plotting things out so they make sense. Anyway, please vote and comment and share this story if you think someone might also like it. Also please add it to your reading lists, because I heard that increases discoverability. Thank you so much for giving my very bad story that is currently being written by a fourteen year old who will probably take this down by the time she is eighteen, a shot.
Love you guys so much ( 125 reads!! That's awesome)

Bye👶🙉( I have no idea why I used a  monkey and baby emoji so don't bother asking)