As I waited for Zayn to pick me up, I frantically thought in my head about how disgraceful I was to my father. In disbelief, I had a right to say what I said. Yes, using vulgar words towards your peers, my dad, isn’t the way to prove your point, but in other words he had it coming. He never trusted me; he always wanted me to be locked up in the house and just starting over the summer I’ve been going out lately with friends, going out to dinner and stuff. Ever since then, he’s been growing a liking to the parental stuck up guidance he gives me every damn day.
Once Zayn’s old car pulls up in my driveway, I quickly open the door and was greeted by Zayn smiling. “Long time no see.” He jokingly said as he backed up out of the rocky driveway away from this hell hole. I laughed at his remark as he turned on the Artic Monkeys, knowing they’re one of my favorite bands. As I hummed along to the rock beat looking out the window, Zayn coughed and started to speak up.
“So, are you and your dad okay or no?” He said, quickly taking a glimpse over at me before putting his eyes back on the road. I looked back out the window.
“No, not at all.” I told him simply as he turned down the music. “Do you need to talk about it?” He asked with all seriousness in his voice, taking small glances at me while driving. The old engine of his car was rather loud, and the sound of his wheels hitting the rocky pavement while driving distracted me.
“Not really.” I told Zayn quietly, drifting my vision back to the window. I could feel him take short glances at me as I proceeded to look out the window and try to destroy anything in my mind. It was a wildfire, my mind was going crazy.
“Are you sure?” He asked again, his jaw clenching as he held the steering wheel tighter, the veins in his hands becoming more visible. “Yeah.” I told him again, biting on my bottom lip and looking down to my lap. I felt terrified to open up to anyone, such as this kind of incident with me and my father’s fight. We’ve been fighting on and off for the last year; I guess it all started when I told him I needed some space.
Once Zayn and I reached to wherever we were going, it was an old house; white siding, some chipping away and a red door. “This is my house.” He lightly says, unbuckling his seatbelt and getting out of the car. I stayed put, looking around to my surroundings. Unbuckling my seatbelt, Zayn opened the car door for me and I laughed.
“Why are you laughing?” He asked, smiling slightly and showing the slightest bit of teeth. “Nobody opens the car door for me, it’s weird.” I tell them and his smile turned into laughter, making me feel happy. He was a gentleman, knowing how to please a woman.
“My little brothers might be home. Don’t worry if they’re restless.” He warns me, leading me to the front door of his house. “I figured we can come here and do our project.” He says, unlocking the front door to me being greeted to a well-kept, country style home. I admired my surroundings, looking around and seeing family pictures, pictures of his little brothers in baseball uniforms and a lot of pictures of a man, probably his father. His father was handsome like Zayn himself, had a beautiful smile. Picking up the photo, I looked at Zayn.
“You look a lot like your father.” I tell him as he stopped walking and faced me, smiling.
“People always tell me that.” He started, taking the frame from my hand and looking at it, smiling. “He was my best friend.” Was?
“What do you mean by was?” I asked him, my eyebrows furrowing and my mind running wild. Did his father leave his family? Or did he die?
“He passed away a few years ago.” He started, not making eye contact with me as he continued to admire his father’s appearance in the frame. “Committed suicide.” My heart sank, guilt ran through my veins and tears formed in my eyes.
“I’m, I’m so sorry.” I managed to spit out. He put the frame back on the long table near all the other photos.
“It’s fine. My brothers are the ones who took a really hard toll on it.” He said; his accent was thicker than normal, seeming upset. I walked up to him as he kept his focus on the floor; wrapping my arms around him and letting him into a warm hug. Zayn reacted, putting his arms around my waist and lightly placing his chin on top of my head from the height difference between us two. “Thank you.” He whispers.
-
Hours of working, studying and conversations go by.
“I’ve got to get going, it’s late.” I tell him, grabbing my bag full of clothes planning on going to Georgia’s after this.
“Do you need a ride?” He asked me, following me out the bedroom door. I nodded my head as we proceeded out the house before he said bye to his mom. She made me dinner earlier, it was a nice home cooked meal and it was generous of her to invite me again some other time.
“Thanks.” I tell him lightly as he opened the car door for me and I took a seat on the seats, buckling my seat belt.
He then got into the car, doing the same procedure as I and headed off to Georgia’s, asking me for directions on the way.
“You feeling any better?” He asked me, taking quick glimpses towards my way. I mumbled out a ‘mhm’ and he smiled Zayn was a nice guy, very genuine and sweet.
Once we reached Georgia’s, I began to unbuckle my seat belt.
“Hey, see you around. Don’t get yourself in trouble, okay?” I jokingly said to Zayn as he chuckled lightly.
“You too. Stay beautiful.” My eye lit up and a smile smeared across my face.
This was a start of a beautiful friendship.
I know this sucks, I really tried I have really bad writers block. Enjoy the little trailer I made for maybe a short story I'm going to do.
YOU ARE READING
war zone || zayn malik
Random"Sometimes Alex, when you love something you have to let it go," the Bradford boy looked over at me as I was at the brink of a breakdown. "I can't just let you go, Zayn," "Alex, I love you no matter what; know that," "I love you too," The remaining...
