Cyra's World drabbles

He didn't mean it (Cyra & Zayn)

[A/N]: I think Cyra's around 20 years old in this... So she's known Zayn for about four years at this point.

Content warning: domestic violence

Cyra knocked on Zayn's bedroom door as quietly as she could. She wasn't entirely sure why she was being quiet. Ace was the only other person in the house and he never minded Cyra spending time with Zayn. Or maybe he did. It was hard not to doubt the femme's calmness sometimes.

There was no answer to the knock, but the door wasn't fully shut so Cyra figured that meant she could come in. Unlike Cyra, Zayn was allowed to close doors without asking permission first.

She found Zayn lying on his side on the bed. On top of the covers, still in his day clothes, facing away from the door. He shifted to look over his shoulder when he heard the door open wider. When he realized it was Cyra, he greeted her and then went back to resting.

"Hey," Cyra replied. "Are you alright?"

Zayn just shrugged.

Cyra sighed and walked over to the bed, taking the risk to close the door behind her. She couldn't blame him for being quiet. It had been a bad day for him. He had gotten into an argument with Ace, which was never a good idea. Cyra knew that far too well.

The pair had gotten into arguments before, but today was different. It was the first time Cyra had seen Ace raise a hand against Zayn. It was scary to see. Scary to witness Ace's violence from an outside perspective. Cyra wondered if it looked that horrific whenever the femme hurt her. It made her thankful that almost no one had ever seen it happen.

Zayn didn't even try to fight back, too shocked to fully comprehend what was happening to him. He backed off immediately, so Ace had effectively won the argument. He always did. Cyra had only ever seen Ace lose an argument to Phoenix. No one else.

Worried about her friend, Cyra sat down on the end of the mattress. She tried to find the words but it was hard. She tried to think of what made her feel better whenever she found herself in Zayn's position. For some reason though, the only thing that ever helped was being around Ace. Giving up, Cyra decided to just start saying whatever came to mind.

"Um... it's–" she was cut off by Zayn suddenly turning over and wrapping his arms around her. She let him move her until she was lying next to him. He held her tightly, nearly squeezing the air out of her lungs. Cyra didn't try to pull away though. She could hear the pain in his breathing as he pressed his face to the back of her neck. He was obviously trying not to cry.

They laid there for a long time. Not saying anything, just breathing together. Cyra's mind raced. It played the dramatic scene of the argument over and over again in horrifically accurate detail. She couldn't stop thinking about the look on Zayn's face. The hurt from betrayal that flashed in his eyes was something Cyra never wanted to see. Not on him, not on anyone she cared about.

She began to wonder how something that started out so beautiful turned into... this. It wasn't like her relationship with Ace, which was wrong from the beginning. Ace and Zayn were supposed to be together forever. They were supposed to get married. What the fuck happened?

After a while, Zayn mumbled something against Cyra's hair.

"He took my key."

"What?" Cyra began to turn her head but Zayn squeezed her tighter. He didn't want her to move.

"To the house," Zayn elaborated. "If I leave, I won't be able to get back in."

Realizing what he meant, Cyra's brain swarmed with the implications. It was a clever trap on Ace's part. Zayn was free to go, no one would stop him, but he would have to leave everything behind.

Zayn had become accustomed to living with Ace over the years. Cyra could see how the femme deliberately made life as easy as possible for him. He never had to work and he could have anything he desired. He never even had to cook or clean. Cyra wondered if he even remembered how to do those things. It seemed like a paradise, and in some ways it was, but it was a paradise that was nearly impossible to leave.

"I can get it back," Cyra offered. She had no idea how she would, but she knew she could find a way.

"Don't," Zayn ordered. "I'll get it back myself."

"Do you want to leave?" Cyra asked.

"No."

Cyra didn't want him to leave either. She loved Zayn being there. Sure, the two didn't get along at first, but now Cyra didn't want it any other way. She was so happy when the three of them were together. She loved seeing how happy Zayn made Ace. She had grown so close to Zayn that she could hardly imagine her life without him.

Ace had even enlisted Cyra's help to keep Zayn happy, and she was proud to do it. She'd kept Zayn company whenever Ace was too busy. She'd helped Ace scout out and retrieve "gifts" for him. She'd done some of the heavy-lifting when Ace came up with larger-than-life date ideas for them. It was all to nurture a relationship that she thought was going to last forever.

"He didn't mean it," Cyra said. "He loves you."

"I know," Zayn replied.

"It'll be–"

"I don't wanna talk about it right now. Can we just lie here for a bit?"

Cyra bit her tongue and swallowed all the desperate words she wanted to say. Zayn told her what he needed so she would give him just that. Like she always did. "Okay."