Addicted z.m

Chapter 14

I paced in the hallway, biting my thumbnail. They had been in there for about an hour. The walls were basically sound proof. I couldn't tell what on earth they could have been saying.

I knew how Zayn was at times like this. He may not be the Zayn I met two years ago, but he's still in there. I saw the fear he always thought he hid from me back in Europe. Zayn never knew how to handle his fear. He put so much energy into trying to hide it, he'd grow weak and fall apart.

It was like a huge breath of fresh air when the door opened and Zayn stepped out behind his father.

"Zayn!" I gasped, throwing myself at him, my arms wrapped around his neck tight.

His arms squeezed me tight as I buried my face into the crook of his neck.

"Are you okay?" I whispered against his skin. "I was so worried."

"I'm fine Love," he promised. "I'm okay."

I pulled away to look at him closely. I cradled his face in my hands and he watched my observing eyes.

I pressed my lips to his briefly before remembering the presence of his father. I stood at Zayn's side and tried to read Yaser's expression.

"You've got a true lover on your hands," he said to Zayn. "I don't think you could've chosen anyone better."

Zayn kissed my hair. "I know."

"I couldn't be more proud to call you my daughter-in-law," he continued. "If Zain chooses so of course."

"Chooses?" I lifted a brow, looking up at Zayn

"We're not married," he responded, ignoring my question. "Your receptionist made the wrong assumption."

"Oh," Yaser nodded. "Well, that's too bad. My apologies. Though, who's to say it won't happen eventually."

I felt my cheeks turn red. Zayn tightened the grip he had around me and I kissed his jaw in response.

"Well it was a pleasure meeting you," Yaser took my hand and kissed the back of it then looked at Zayn. "Thank you for coming."

"I knew I'd end up regretting it if I didn't," Zayn said honestly.

They shared two nods of their heads before Zayn led me to the elevator. He was quiet and had a very distant look in his eye.

He wouldn't speak. I squeezed his hand every now and then but he never retaliated. Wherever he was in his mind, it was further than I had seen him in a long time.

When we got in the car he stared at the steering wheel and stayed silent for a very long two minutes.

"Zayn," I whispered. I ran my hand on his arm when he didn't reapond. "Baby, speak to me," I begged.

He slowly lifted his head in my direction. He took in the sight of me then sighed. I climbed over the divider and settled myself in his lap, pressing my lips against his.

He needed this. He needed comfort; I didn't care how much he refused it. He deserved it and I was going to give it to him.

His hands traced patterns on my sides when I pulled away. I cradled his face in my hands and stared. His eyes watched mine scan his silently.

I kissed him again then sighed. "It's onle one o'clock," I informed. "Do you want to go do something?" My hands ran up and down his chest. "You know, get your mind off of things?"

He shook his head. "I just want to go home," he whimpered.

I nodded, stroking one of his cheeks before climbing back over to my seat.