The Me You Can't See (H.S)

05

TW: Mental Health

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Haven's POV:

My head hurts.

Zayn and I are in a car on the way back to my apartment. . , who's car, I don't know. He'd stolen it before coming to find me in the alleyway across the club. Thankfully so, because not long after he found me, someone found Vico's body and called the police. . .soon after that the place was swarming with cops, and cops only mean them asking questions I can't give them the answers to.

Were going a bit above the speed limit, trying to reach my apartment as quickly as possible without drawing unwanted attention to ourselves and at this moment, I don't think I remember the last time I'd felt this kind of fear.

The chances of Malcolm finding out that I'm alive are close to zero, considering I killed the only person who would be able to identify me, but I can't help but feel a pit in my stomach, I mean he has eyes everywhere.

I have my hands holding up my head between my knees as Zayn drives, trying to control my breathing. He was able to calm me down. . , I hated that I cried, that I once again shed worthless tears over a man who is equally as worthless.

"What's going on in that head of yours?" Zayn asks, never taking his eyes off the road as we stop at a red light.

"I don't know. I can't keep up with my brain." I say huffing out the words. I feel frustrated trying to organize my thoughts. They're going a mile a minute and I feel like I'm always behind. I can see them, but I can't make them out. My brain feels like a big ball of nothing and everything at the same time, and I can't help my anger at my lack of ability to understand them.

I'm picturing every bad possible outcome from this mistake, each of which ends with me back with him and on top of the crying that gave me a pounding headache, I just feel mentally exhausted.

"Ok, cherry you have to relax, what's the worst that could happen. Vico is out of the picture, and there are only a few people who actually know what you look like. What are the chances of someone else recognizing you? You know he never lets them stay together. They're too important to be close to each other." Zayn tries his best to reassure me, but I can hear it in his voice. He doesn't believe this as much as he's trying to lead me to believe.  

"Zayn, what if someone saw me and called him. What if someone saw you. You'll be killed. . .oh god you can't die." I can feel the panic creeping up my throat and throughout my body.

"Hey, hey, ok calm down. If someone saw us then there would be a good chance that we'd already be dead." He tells me. That's true, the fact we're still alive is definitely something.

"But for safe measure, you're going to leave tomorrow morning instead of in a couple of months. Toss the phone you're using now and use your emergency burner until you can get another one." He says, firing his plan quickly, tapping something furiously on his phone whilst simultaneously focusing on the road.

I began taking out the battery from the burner phone I'm using and tossing it out the window before he can even finish, letting the tires of the stolen car run over it.

"You'll leave Australia just to be safe and I'll-" as we pull over in a dark alleyway about a block from my apartment his phone starts ringing. Our eyes meet in panic at the unknown caller until he slowly brings his finger to his lips indicating for me to not make a noise.

He picks up the phone bringing it to his ear. "Yeah!" he says quickly and firmly, nothing like the teasing light-hearted Zayn I'm used to.

He listens for a couple of minutes nodding every so often before answering the unknown caller. "Yes Freddy, I'll take the first flight out. I have a couple of things to sort out in Rio but I should be back the day after tomorrow." At that he hangs up the phone, shoving it into his pocket.