Winter

No More Tweezers

"Do you-do you want to talk about it?" Kenny hesitantly calls through the bathroom door, where I'm changing into a pair of her joggers and a t-shirt.  I avoid looking in the mirror at all costs and open up the door as soon as I'm finished.

"No," I say quietly, walking past her only to lay down on her bed.  "I don't really want to do anything now, if that's okay with you.  Zayn and Louis are going to make me talk when he gets here anyway."

"Yeah, alright," she sighs, laying next to me and I close my eyes as silence settles around the room.  It's peaceful and gives me some time to gather my thoughts on what just happened.  I don't feel anymore tears as I sift through the memories, sticking to facts rather than emotions so I don't have another break down.  I realized we were in trouble when he used my last name, I pretended to be sick, I made sure Kenny got away to find help, I tried to run, he trapped me in the alley...

The quiet is interrupted by the sound of car doors and a rapid knocking on the door.  Kenny turns to me as we hear Louis shuffling around downstairs to open the door.  She stares at me wide-eyed and weary as low voices ring through the otherwise still house, and I frown when I realize that Zayn didn't come alone.

"Do you want to go down?" She whispers and I shake my head, closing my eyes.

"Not until I have to," I breathe back, my eyes fluttering shut.  "I don't want to tell them," I say after a pause and I feel Kenny scoot further up on the bed.

"Well, come on then."  I give her a questioning look when she holds open the covers for me.  "After our traumatic night, there's no way they'll disturb us if we're peacefully sleeping," she states matter-of-factly with a proud little grin that I can't help but reciprocate.  I place myself next to her, curling against her body once she lets the duvet down and switches off the lamp.

"Thank you, Kenny.  You know that I love you like a sister, right?"

"Hell, sometimes I think I love you more than my brother," she responds with a little giggle and I roll my eyes even though she probably can't see in the dark.

"You know that's not true," I murmur as my eyelids grow heavier.  "We love them at the end of the day."

"Yeah, I reckon we do." 

**

"Zaya," I hear Kenny whisper, "Zaya," she tries again, poking my back this time and I bury my face further into the pillow.

"What time is it?" I croak out, not even attempting to open my eyes yet.  "S'too dark to be awake, Ken."

"It's eight fifteen, Z, but it's raining so that's why it's so dark.  I'm sorry and I wouldn't have woken you, but I'm starving and I'm scared to go downstairs alone.  I peeked into the living room like an hour ago, and my brother, yours, and Harry are in there, still talking."

"Why does Zayn have to bring him everywhere?  He gets more pissed at me than my own brother and father combined!" I huff before sitting up.

"Oh god, there's blood on the shoulder of the shirt.  Were you cut?"

"Yeah, it scratched against a wall," I turn to face her and she gasps again, covering her mouth with one hand.  "What?"

"Oh, babe, right under your eye and down your cheek...it's all bruised purple.  Look in the mirror."  I slowly get off the bed, my left hip protesting, and I can only imagine the contusions I must have around that area.  I wince after I see my reflection, the eggplant colored mark taking up a majority of the right side of my face.  This is going to be fun to go to school with.

"Well, come on then, let's get something to eat.  I'm hungry, too, now that you've mentioned it."  I'm not really, but I know she'll feel too guilty to make me go downstairs for her after seeing my injuries.