Irresistible [A Zarry Fanfiction].

Chapter Forty One

Once again, Zayn Malik found one of his evenings ruined by Alex Johnson. Alex Johnson always ruined everything that Zayn came into contact with somehow. His family, his friends, even Harry. Alex had him wrapped around his little finger, but now there was nothing that Zayn could do about it. Alex really was cracking the whip tonight though, wanting Zayn to come out at midnight, and meet him precisely at five past, which was impossible, and therefore earning himself a black eye. He thought he was done with bruises now, but he must have just been a fucking fist magnet to some people.

Zayn was practically stomping through the Bradford streets. It was freezing as he walked in his jeans, a large hoodie and his varsity jacket, and his big trainers. He had a large snapback that he had borrowed from Niall over his head, which was pushing his fringe down and in front of his eyes, with his varsity jacket hood over the snapback. For once, he didn’t care what he looked like. He was too pissed off about all of this, the timing, the punch, and what he was expected to do when he got back to Alex with the money. It emotionally hurt more then it ever had done before, but that was all Harry’s fault. If it weren’t for Harry and his impact on Zayn’s life, Zayn wouldn’t have actually given two shits about what Alex did to him. But now that was different. Even though there was no commitment between himself and Harry, it didn’t mean that he wanted to sleep around. He wanted Harry to be the one to touch him like Alex did. But, he needed money, and that was something he wasn’t going to ask Harry for.

He stormed around a corner and narrowly missed hitting into a lamppost, which pissed him off even more. His temper was due to snap any minute, and he was hoping that the next client wasn’t going to be some doped up twat, because he could already feel the impact of his fists hitting into the poor sucker. He walked along the long road, the smell of it almost seeming familiar, but he didn’t care about that right now. What if his Father returned home drunk, tonight? Who would be there to protect his pregnant mother and two young sisters if he was in some drunken rage? He should have been there, that’s who. Images of his Father were flowing through his mind, as he checked the house numbers. In the dark light it was hard, but he finally found number 82, and walked over to the door.

He wasn’t thinking clearly, how could he? His mind was being taken over by the sound of that sickening crack when his Father punched his Mum in the nose. The sound seemed to echo so much around his brain that he didn’t realise how angry it made him, and he hadn’t realised that he was practically pounding the door down with his fists. Zayn slammed the side of his closed fist onto the door repeatedly, his teeth gritting together, before the door swung open which nearly made him lose his balance.

“What, what?!” a strong voice came from in front of him, and Zayn brought his fist back to his body as his chocolate eyes focused on the tall, broad body in front of him.

“I’ve got a present for you from Johnson.” Zayn told him, feeling his vocal tone drop to a sarcastic level. The guy in front of him frowned slightly, even though he leant across his door, sliding his hands into his pocket.

“Oh yeah?” He asked slyly, even though his mouth was set in a straight line, his eyes looking over Zayn coldly. Zayn rolled his eyes and looked at him tiredly.

“Do you really think I’d come all the way to some randomer’s house for no fucking reason?” Zayn snapped, before taking a shaky breath, even though any chances of trying to remain calm were destroyed. The guy looked over him in distaste.

“God, you’re a snappy one aren’t you? Bet that’s why you’ve got that black eye,” The guy started, before Zayn lost it. He didn’t know what the hell came over him. It just felt like everything had come down on him at once.

The pressure of his schoolwork, the stress of his family life, the weariness of what felt like being Alex’s lap dog, and that terrible churning feeling in his stomach that occurred everytime he thought about what was going to happen to his body, and the guilt for how Harry would feel about that, had all come down on him, and now the guy in front of him was going to pay for all of that. Zayn’s hands lunged for the boy’s loose T-shirt, and before either of them had realised Zayn had the younger boy pinned against the wall, his hands ripping the cotton of the lad’s t-shirt.