Angel's Mural â"‚ Ziall Horalik Mini-Fic

S E V E N - I Didnt Raise A Whore

DISCLAMER: Theres some racial slers i this Chapter sowweeeyyyyy :(

          Zayn gulped hard as a Lantern flickered on, his mother’s figure standing there, her hand on her hip. "M-Mama I can explain!" He whispered, defending himself.

           "Then explain why you’re out and about, spreading your legs for the masters son! I didn’t raise a whore Zayn!" She shouted at the young man, who trembled, trying not to cry. "Niall ain’t like that mama! He loves meh!"

           It was the truth, Niall had said it himself, He did love Zayn. "That’s impossible, ya fool! You’re a little niggah, white folk don’t like us!"

           Zayn shook his head, burying his head in his hands. "I aint black mama! Don’t you get that? Everyone says so!"

           Everyone always told Zayn he was an abomination, that he didn’t even deserve to live and the dark boy didn’t even know why, why they would say those things to a child. Sure, they told the other slaves they were trash, but Zayn, no, they told him he was never meant to be born. Why would they say those things?

           "I just don’t want ya getting hurt. Ya don’t know anything about this family and what there capable of." With that, the elderly woman turned out the lantern, laying back down to rest, while Zayn, he cried quietly to himself, sniffling and whipping his tired eyes till he finally feel asleep.

~*~

           When Zayn was woken, his body ached, his lips puffy and his eyes still just as tired. He'd only gotten two hours sleep sense he spent time with Niall at the docks, so you can imagine he was tired, after all, kissing sure did use a lot of energy.

           Zayn giggled under his breath. He'd kissed Niall last night and it was wonderful. Niall’s lips were so soft, his callused hands so rough on his skin.

           He touched the place on his cheek were he could still feel Niall’s hand resting, the warmth radiating against his skin.

           "Well, c'mon, get up!" His little brother called, the black boy hovering over him. "I'm up!" He shot back, sitting up and tussling his hair slightly, before popping his aching bones and stepping out of the sleeping courters.

           Breakfast had already been served, Zayn missing it. Which he was okay with, his belly was still full from the night before when he ate like a king. Not to mention, Niall promised to bring him lunch, bless his little heart.

           "Okay, time to work, I want you all in your places." The head ranch hand yelled, sitting upon one of the Horan’s many horses.

           Zayn got to work quickly and within hours, he was drenched in sweat and practically dying of thirst.

           He glanced up at the sky, the sun beating down on him till he wishes he could just keel over. He used his shirt to wipe his head but it was no use, he only became sticky, his body burning, not from the heat but form the acidic sweat.