Hurt

Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

Work was tough. My hands were stained from my pen and a huge calluse enveloped my ring finger from writing too much. I came home and Zayn was smoking again. I sighed and turned on the radio. "Smooth Criminal" by Michael Jackson started playing, and Zayn threw his cigarette out the window and started dancing. He could do the moonwalk almost perfectly, and his body moved swiftly to the music. I laughed at his attempt to do the pin drop, which I wasn't sure why he wold do it to this song. He was wearing a plain blue t-shirt and jeans. He wasn't wearing a belt today, and his hair was flat and his socks a faint grey color. Him and Harry had gotten drunk last night and I had to drive Harry home because Liam or Louis wouldn't. Luckily, my GPS was cooperating, so I could take Harry home no problem. 

I fell asleep last night listening to Zayn singing "Give Me Love" by Ed Sheeran (he always sings Ed when he gets drunk, for some reason). I kept thinking in my head what Francis, or Niall, meant by "I told you too much." I wish I had kept his number, because this whole thing would probably be cleared up by now. 

Zayn picked me up and put me on the couch. He lay on top of me, kissing me hard, and his hand made his way up my leg and onto my arm. The smell of smoke was overwhelming, but I couldn't escape his soft lips and tight grasp. He started to play with my hair, and I smiled. He released and looked at me, his eyes sparkling. "You are so beautiful," Zayn said, still taking tiny strands of my hair and putting them in between his fingers. I always respected Zayn because he would turn me on without going too far. We would have a little kissing session and we would both be content, smiling for the rest of the day. I felt like that's what love was about, finding each other's comfort zone. 

"So are you," I said back at him. He smiled. The music was turned off and the room was lit by a single lightbulb inside a lamp in the corner of the room. "What do you want to do tonight?" Zayn asked. He hopped off of me and went and sat on the bed. I ran over with him, sitting on his lap sideways. I ran my fingers against his rough stubble. "We should go out again. But this time, for a specific reason," I said. "What do you mean?" Zayn asked, looking confused. "Well, I kind of want to go to Fran... Niall's house..." I said.

"Bella, no. I don't think so. Why do you want to go there?" he said, setting me on the floor and standing up with me. "Because I want to find out if our relationship was fake or not," I said.

"But you're with me. Doesn't that matter to you?" Zayn said. He scratched the back of his neck. "Our relationship is real. Let go of the past and focus on the future."

"How can I when there's this... dilemma... that's been bothering me all night?" I said. I hugged him and he pulled me close. "I know the story. But promise you won't get mad. He was doing it for the best," Zayn whispered. 

He started off telling me that Niall grew up in a tough family. His parents were divorced and his brother died of a miscarriage when Niall was only five years old. He had one younger sister and they basically had to fend for themselves while their parents were too busy being alcoholoics and drug addicts. They made their own dinner and walked the three miles to school every morning and every afternoon after school. They never had friends over because their parents were so dangerous to be around, and they kept their grades average. They could've been better if homework was easier to do in the house, but it wasn't when all you could hear was constant crying from their mother and contsant fighting from the both of them.

One day, when Niall was fifteen, he started to take action against his parents' abusive behavior. HIs mom started to punch and kick Niall and his sister when she would get mad, taking all her anger out on them. Niall got fed up with it, and decided to cope by writing a blog entitled "N's Journal." There, he talked all about how his sister and him were struggling, using fake names (N referring to Niall and   C referring to Catherine, his sister) and asking people if they were going through the same problem. He got so many responses on the first day- over 500! They were all from kids that were going through the same thing Niall was, too, and gave him advice on how to deal with it. Niall felt happy. He liked knowing that other people out there could understand what he was going through.