Change Your Life

Molly POV

I hate this. Absolutely hate. This isn't my type of fun. Clubbing. Watching blonde's act more like idiots, watching men sexually harass the drunken blonde's, then, watching my boyfriend drink.

Beer after beer. Pint after pint. My boyfriend Zayn Malik. Yes. The Zayn Malik from One Direction. I watched as he started grinding on some girls, touching, feeling, even kissing.

I couldn't stand it no longer. I stood up from the bar and walked slowly over to him. These heel's are getting to me!

"Zayn." I yelled at him over the loud music while touching his shoulder. "Mum?? I'm Bradford Bad Boy!" He said with blood-shot eyes. I chuckled.

Idiot.

"Zayn baby, we need to leave." I said nice as I could to this boy. "Mum! Don't tell me what to do!" He screamed.

"Dammit Zayn, I'm your girlfriend." I said. He laughed and said "Wow! You're pretty! Can I have your number?"

I rolled my eyes and took the red cup from his hand which had beer in it and I threw it on the floor. While dragging him by the arm, a blond girl with her heels in her hand stopped us.

"Whoa there baby! I'd like a dance with this here cutie." She said feeling Zayn's chest. Zayn groaned and licked his lips.

"Fuck off!" I yelled as I pushed her down. She growled at me and crawled away. Zayn frowned and I continued the struggle pulling him outside.

"Where's my girlfriend! She will beat you're ass!" Zayn said yelling at me. I chuckled. "I am your girlfriend dumb ass."

"Where is Molly!" Zayn yelled. I ignored him and pushed him in the passenger seat. "No! I want to drive!"

"Zayn, you are acting 3. Shut up." I growled. Zayn ignored my statement and continued to wine the whole ride home as I drove.

I am trying my best not to just flip out on this drunken boy. I love him, I do. But when he's drunk. I just have to find a way.

I unlocked the front door of our house and we walked in. Soon as we step foot in our house, Zayn crawled under our living room table and snuggled with it.

"You should of just left me there!" He yelled.

Ah, here we go again. "Zayn, you were drunk." I said calm as I could.

"No! Well, maybe! But i was having fun! Let me have my fun women!"

"Shut up." I mumbled and sat on the couch taking my heels off.

"Just because you didn't have fun, doesn't mean i had to leave!" He continued. How much longer can I take!?!

I moaned and Zayn walked up to me. His eye still blood-shot red. I looked at him with wide eyes. He walked closer and closer.

He brought his hand up above his head, and he slapped me, right on the cheek. His massive hand probably made a bruise, and a very noticeable one.

"Been waiting to do that for 9-months." He slurred and limped up the stairs.

I slowly brought my hand up to my face and flinched away soon as I touched it. Feeling the continuously salty tears, spree out of my eyes, feeling the makeup run down my face, I cried.

Silently, but I cried.

I then heard loads of knocking at the door. Loud knocking, I couldn't get it. I continued to cry. I heard a familiar voice behind the door.

Louis Tomlinson.

Zayn's best friend. I yelled "It's unlocked." My voice cracked but I didn't care. Louis walked in and saw me. He ran to me and looked surprised.

"Why is your cheek purple? Who did this?" He asked in a worried tone of voice.

Should I tell him?