Hurt

Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

I could feel his eyes on me as I peeled of my sweatshirt and threw it on the floor. He was reading a book on the couch, and a cigarette was in his mouth. He was wearing his glasses, which he never wore around anyone but me, and smoke engulfed him in a cloudy mist. "Don't smoke in the house," I basically yelled at him. He did what he was told and opened a window and stuck his head out. The cloud of smoke followed him like a puppy dog on a leash. I jumped on my bed and lay down, watching him peacefully smoke out the window. His hair was perfect as always- his one blonde streak was not as pronounced as it was a few weeks ago when he got it re-done, and he was wearing no shirt and jeans that were sagging to the middle of his bum. His belt was unbuckled, and he was only wearing white socks with a hole in the toe. "Diet Mountain Dew" by Lana Del Rey was playing on the radio, and it was turned all the way up. He liked listening to his music loud, and when we first starting going out, I would always ask him to turn it down. He never did, so I just learned to live with it.

"Nice day out," he said, pulling the cigarette slowly away from his lips and blowing out a puff of smoke. That was another thing I didn't like about him- he always smoked. He smoked three cigarettes a day- one after breakfast, lunch, and one at midnight. It was very sexy when he did it- but I lived in fear every day that he would get sick or I would get sick from secondhand smoke. Before we started going out, he used to smoke a pack a day. I made him stop smoking so much, because I told him that his limit was only three a day. At first, he refused. But I threatened him that if he didn't do what he was told, I would not be with him anymore. He immediately agreed to the deal, and that made me feel better inside. I then knew how much he really loved me. And I also think he realized that I could get hurt from his bad habit, also.

I nodded in agreement with his statment. "Yeah, it's a good day," I said. "But my boss decided to be really annoying this morning." He threw his cigarette out the window and jumped on the bed with me. He left the window open so some of the smoke could escape. It was the middle of winter, and it had been unusually warm in Bradford, England. It was an acceptable twenty five degrees outside, and the grungy snow lay on the brown grass, waiting for spring to bear it's head.

"Why, what did he do?" he asked, blowing out another puff of smoke. "Ew, stop!" I said, waving my arms around and pretending to cough. "Bitch," he mumbled under his breath with a small smirk on his face. I pushed him and sat up on the edge of the bed. Lana Del Rey's "Radio" was now playing, and her voice sounded smooth and crisp. It was getting dark out, and the sun started to slowly disappear behind the hills. I could hear him get on his knees and come towards me. He put his arms around me and started to sing along to the music. "Now my life is sweet like cinnamon," he started. "Like a f***in' dream I'm livin' in."

"Lick me up and take me like a vitamin," I sang. "'Cause my body's sweet like sugar venom, oh yeah..."

I couldn't stop him from kissing my neck slowly. I let my head go and let him take control over me. He made it to my lips and then pulled away. "You don't know how bad I needed... and wanted that..." I said. The scent of smoke was now trailing on both our lips, his tounge gray and my lips tinted pink. He took his hand and put it on my cheek, rubbing his finger slowly across it. The opening notes of "Blue Jeans" started playing, and I could see a small smile play across his face.

"Wanna go out tonight?" he asked, getting up and putting a t-shirt on. It was grey and had a gaping hole in it near the collar. "If we're going out, you're NOT wearing that," I said. I buckled his belt and walked over to his dresser and pulled out a brand-new white t-shirt. "Oh, I won't need that," he said. "Nor will I need this," he said, ripping off his belt. I stood in front of him, mouth wide open. "What do you think you're doing?" I asked. "We're not going to a restaurant," he said. "I'm taking you to meet some of my friends."

I sighed and collapsed back on the bed. "So wear something... you know... small," he said.

"Shut up, Zayn!" I yelled. He started laughing as I put on my baggiest pair of sweatpants.