Zayn caught on quickly to my forced smiles and laughs and "I love yous." Now whenever he held me it was with such a sense of not wanting me to slip away that at some points I found it difficult to breathe.
One night, Zayn slipped into my room through my open window. I was used to it, but before it was a lot more sneaky, which made it a lot hotter.
"Hey Zayn," I said, hardly looking up from my laptop, my voice lacking the seductive tone I had once tried to speak to him in.
"Hello Nicole," he responded. His voice was the exact opposite of mine, full of all the lust that had always been there. It still drove me crazy when he talked like that. But I refused to let it get to me.
I heard him shuffle over to the side of my bed where I was laid on my stomach; he was making as much noise as possible to try to get my attention. It was strange seeing Zayn work so hard when it was always the other way around.
He flopped down beside me and I closed my computer, not really wanting him to see my weird fan girl tumblr posts.
"Nicole I really do love you, you know." It sounded as true as anything I had ever heard but all I wanted to do was cover my ears. I couldn't listen to him say that. It just made this so much harder.
I had decided in my head-after lots of debating with myself both in my thoughts and out loud-that I was going to break up with Zayn.
When we had sex, I loved him then, and I still loved him now but it didn't feel as passionate. It just felt so wrong to be with someone who loved me and not feel the same about them. It made me feel guilty.
I have to do it, I thought, now is as good of a time as ever.
"Zayn I have to be honest with you. I-"
"Hold on I have something for you."
I finally did look up and realized he was wearing a tight t-shirt that showed off all of his muscles. He had a beanie on, and was taking an acoustic guitar out of its case.
"What are you doing?" I asked. If he sang for me with that gorgeous voice of his I would never be able to break up with him.
"I know you like it when I sing for you so I thought I'd give you a private performance." He grinned when he said the last bit. It was hard to resist this and my head was screaming no but my heart was yelling yes just as loudly. I gave in. I couldn't help it.
As soon as his fingers began to strum the instrument, a serious look swept over his face. I knew the song right away and would have rather jumped out the window than have to hear Zayn sing it. It was possibly my favorite song of all time and somehow Zayn knew.
"Give me love, like her..."
I felt my composure crumbling and he had only sung the first line.
"Cause lately I've been waking up alone."
Why was he doing this to me?
"Paint splattered tear drops on my shirt."
Yeah there were about to be tons of tear drops streaming down my face I wanted to say. But I couldn't interrupt this.
"Told you I would let them go."
It was like he knew that he was losing me and that this would be the only way to win me back. Sing my favorite song with all the passion and truth that he could. And it was working more than he could ever know.
"And that I'll fight my corner, maybe tonight I'll call ya, after my blood, turns into alcohol."
I hadn't noticed that tears of his own had started to swell up in his eyes.
"Oh I just want to hold ya."
He threw himself forward, tossing the guitar to the opposite side of the bed, wrapping his arms around me.
Then the hardest part came. I had to do it. There was no other way. If I didn't do it now, then I would never be able to.
"Zayn I'm breaking up with you." The words tasted bitter in my mouth, and the flavor didn't go away. It happened so fast that I didn't know if he had heard me or not though the room was so silent that I could hear every breath he took.
"Oh," he muttered. "Well."
He stood up and flashed me a glance that nearly killed me. There was so much pain in his beautiful eyes. Without even taking his guitar he had climbed out of my window without a sound.
What had I just done
