Their tongues breathed disaster, out of spite, with sealed lips, either or. Who profanes the dealer? Depends who aided the counter that night, they passed the pair the glass bottles . Perrie bent wise, and declined the offer of liquor. Instead, Zayn took up the neck of her reject to ignite the scorch lining down his throat, it only partook as an addition to his work developed, consumed dry angst. The intent well in her mind anyways, she'd have to patch up the rigid holes crinkled in their relationship. The fabrication padded them.
This evening, her nails deepened their sink into Zayn's wrist when removing his cluttered body from the bar. She was a muted solid under his crimson glassed eyes, reasoning for his brief struggle to tear from her once well groomed nails. What with all the vexed gnawing done at the tips, and released chipping of them lost in nightfall's battle. Perrie thought this assumed kidnaping would allude his conscious from the criminalities of intoxication, but no, his demeanor refused the transition. Home would emerge from the horizon soon, and the acquainted atmosphere always shone some faith of a waning wild behavior.
She cautiously dared herself to endeavor a glance over at him, he'd been awfully tranced to coax silence. Usually, it's what the alcohol littered his lips with, words. Words that strewn together in some sense, not always, but when distributed so, they versed haughtily. His behavior tonight was of one, that peers as a stranger's would. One unreadable , for a person she pinpointed like a map.Her gape jolted to him, balancing with the vast road she trailed along. His temple pressed to the glass, the heat from him strewing onto the crystal. The steam he radiated stuck to the smooth transparent skim from the condensation that glittered on his flesh. Perrie believed he wasn’t fidgety enough to withstand his normal toxicities when slamming down his own body weight. Movements were frequent, and protruded with a bit of lighthearted ecstasy — nowhere near his attitude tonight. Maybe this inebriation wasn’t all the substance he expended, more wired into the lines of temperament venom, irritation. The high only clouded his friends, but when the tinted grey gawk rose to Perrie, the beauty that only should be adorned with the warmth, flattered the seethe of his whole night.
His stagger didn't stumble across the pavement anymore, much to be specific. Footsteps clattered against the cement harder, sure, but his march maneuvered intact to the door. Opening it was a distant possibility, his whole body clamped to it stubbornly, along with no full view of his face. He had clenched fists prodding on the shivering armor it cased in, that finally rejected his quivering body thawing the door and he released. Perrie stood a few feet away, patiently waiting for him to follow his own actives by toying with the hems of her sleeves until the bulk of door scraping against mahogany flooring depleted her fabric interest.
"Do you care about me anymore?" hissed from his lips, "Have you ever given a shit about me?"
Those words were the first thing he uttered to her all night, audible anyways. She perceived a few mumbles numbed in profanity from under his sticky breath one too many times at the bar. His choice in this growl seized her focus, her lips parted, only to inhale an empty breath. She didn't respond, but the seconds he handed were choked up to soon for her to try.
"I give you everything, everything, Perrie, and you don't even remotely regard me," Zayn grumbled again, a little louder as his fury boiled more. She could tell by his eyes retrieving in crimson glint.
"Where did you pull the impression that I don't care or love you, Zayn? Do I not show it enough?" Perrie asked, "You can't possibly be believing the fans. Pictures is all they can judge from, it's not always that they're looking out for you, they just don't want to see us together."
"Your visits, the support, it all seems around the times your care is questioned. I'm starting to question it too."
Perrie arched herself straighter, but when she comforted into her stance, everything tensed immobile. Her eyes didn't know whether to widen from the impact of his impulsive spat, or narrow out of the disrespect he intended it to filter in. They stayed at rest, but her forehead, neck, and everything in between suddenly twitched into a scarlet hue. It heated up her strained voice, aside from the muscle strings each tightening with the passing moments, her answer tripped out about eight octaves louder than his.
"I never look at that stuff, Zayn. All my attention to you isn't an act, I wouldn't have been here as long as I have if it was. I'm not at all fond of the things people say to try to tear me down, and if I didn't love you so fucking much, it would've bothered me. I've been so tolerant of your screw ups, and you of mine. It's a team effort, but I'm just afraid you're hurting because of things we can't control," she breathed in, catching her inhale before sustaining a little lower in pitch, "What hurts me is your doubt, that I wouldn't do anything for you. Your pain is my fault, so it breaks me too. I can't do it."
His hardened scowl broke, the wandering fear and curiosity well rounded within him, his voice trembled, "Can't do what?"
"Have you love me so much, that it ruins you." Perrie braces herself to say, but couldn't keep the composure long enough, "I don't deserve you, Zayn. Feeling like you have half my heart, and having yours shatter."
"You're not saying.." He whimpered, stepping closer to her.
Her eyes squeezed together tightly, to mask the beading drops, "I'm sorry."
"No," he started to splutter, disbelief stilled him, until he had enough grasp on his essence to pine through it. "No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, please Perrie."
His knees buckled together as soon as he was in front of her, and soon he permitted the collapse. He had his arms tightly tangled around her waist, afraid to ever let his clutch loosen, she might then try to depart. His face buried in the stomach of her jet black cocktail dress, which saturated up all the muffled sobs, tears, and the agony he melted into. She could feel his fingers curling tighter on her spine, the space suffocated between the cloth and his arms deceased with the growing possession he pleaded for. There was a tingling near her belly button, it compressed cool around her burning skin. An all out bawl on his part poked the lids of her eyes to well up as well.
"I don't want you to feel unloved, I don't know how to prove to you-"
"Then please don't go, ever."
Perrie wedged her shivering lips together and under her teeth. Maybe now the verses she was recited were troubled out from veined impulse, he couldn't help it. The booze might haven't been the most powerful substance in this quick quarrel, but it's absence might cushion the poorly rounded accusations she had flicked at her. Every regret resolved as hasty as its entrance. It had a purpose, to unhitch the bubbly scorch found in the drinks, sober up. She averted her look down to him; every limb of his attached to her bottom half, more and more as the seconds swept by. Her hands ran to him, one on his hair, the other near his hiding jaw line. The one threaded in his hair raked through each black blade once or twice to calm down the vibration he fluttered. The fingers molded to the side of his face, gently caressed at the tears he let flicker down he tan cheeks. She did it more, and found less and less beading down. Under her deep exhale she steadied muttered a soft assurance.
'Never.'
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вeнιnd тнe glaѕѕ || zerrie
FanfictionSometimes, it’s more than just the drink, but perhaps a slap of reality will sober you up.