[COMPLETED]
❝Death is inevitable. It's a promise made to us at birth.❞
Arielle is a studious young woman striving to be a chef. Her life is full of going to class, reading textbooks, and hanging out with her friends, until she meets Zayn. Zayn's an...
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➳ ZAYN'S POV
I pull into my driveway quickly, pushing the garage door opener and driving into the space. Nyjah follows behind me and parks on the driveway and once I step out of the car, I feel all the anger rise up in me again. The drive back helped loosen me up a little bit, but once I'm relieved of the feeling of being behind the wheel, some of that pulsing anger comes up again.
I step around my Skyline, throwing a reckless punch at the bag that's still hanging from the ceiling. Pain flashes through my knuckles, but I ignore the feeling and punch again, promising dark bruises. Langley knows how to fucking piss me off and I need to let my anger out elsewhere, otherwise it'll end up being directed at anyone, and everyone, including Arielle.
Nyjah carefully steps in and stops behind me. "You alright, mate?"
I hang my head down, taking a moment to catch my breath, trying to calm myself. It works a little, but I don't know if it's enough. I wave my hand lazily in Nyjah's direction without looking at him. After a few moments, I hear the door close and Nyjah walks past me, towards the staircase. "Need a moment?" He asks, although I think it's fairly obvious at this point.
I scratch at the back of my head, "No, no, I'm fine. But I need a smoke."
"I'll join you," he replies before he starts up the stairs. I follow him up, where the two of us meet Zoe and Arielle, who're cooking together in the kitchen.
As I take the final step up the staircase, Arielle's eyes meet mine and I instantly feel a little calmer. I don't want to upset Arielle in a release of my anger and knowing that has caused me to be more aware and in control of it, for now anyways. Arielle is my calm in a weird way.
Arielle turns then to flip something in a pan, while Zoe heedlessly chops away at vegetables. Her hands move so quickly with the knife, that I'm afraid she'll end up losing a finger. It's amazing that the hyperactive chick can be so calm and focused on something. I guess in a way, cooking is Zoe's calm—it's her Arielle.
I didn't even realize I'm as hungry as I am, but the second I smell her cooking, my stomach grumbles out in hunger. It just smells so damn good.
The sound of the patio door opening behind me draws my attention away from Arielle as Nyjah steps out onto the deck and grabs the ashtray. He wastes no time in lighting up a cigarette and I saunter outside to join him. Once I'm out on the balcony beside him and there's a stick between my fingers, I light it and inhale. The nicotine makes its way through my bloodstream and travels to my brain, stimulating pleasure.
Sometimes, I question why I even smoke, but then I remember just how pleasurable it is. The moment I feel any stress, any worry, any anger, anything I feel I can't control, I reach for this tainted stick of poison and it changes everything. Either that, or it just pushes the problems further into the bottle and tightens a cap on it—I'm not entirely sure yet.
