Zayn for Elly.
I slam my bedroom door shut. Although I doubt it'd make a difference to the carry on down stairs. My parents are fighting. Again. But this time they were fighting about me. My grades had dropped a little, and evidently that meant I was turning into some 'bad student.' I really wasn't, I had just flunked algebra.
But I guess my parents prefer to fight then actually listen to me. I usually just sit there with my ipod in or watch tv till it passes. But when my father brought in Zayn I just had to leave.
Zayn. Of course they'd try blame him. Of course they'd blame the mysterious bad boy who had stolen their daughters heart. All they saw in him were the tattoos. The denim jackets and the cigarettes.
Not once did they see his smile, his shyness around me, his art nor his chivalry. He's never, not once smelt of cigarettes, nor has he ever smoked around me. Zayn wasn't like what my parents kept saying he was.
I stare up at my bedroom sealing feeling sorry for myself, before my phone buzzes next to me. I unlock it to find a text from him. From my Zayn. I smile opening it.
Hey Elly how are you? I missed you today while at work :) x.
It's simple, but perfect. I tap away with my reply.
Zayn, my parents are fighting again. Can you come over babe? x
I don't even have to wait long for his reply.
Of course I will. Lock your door, open your window and I'll be there in 20, kay? I love you baby x
I text him a quick thank you before doing as he asks. My parents are still at it by the time I hear a small tap on my bedroom window. I jump up and watch as Zayn smoothly climbs through my open window.
"Are you alright?" He asks, worried. His white t-shirt seems a little see threw. And it takes everything in me to pull my eyes away from his toned torso.
"Yeah, I'm fine." I shrug and he embraces me. "Why are you wet?" I ask him, wrapping my arms around his neck. That must explain why I can see threw his shirt.
"I came here on my bike." He says, pulling back a little to look at my face.
"You rode a push bike to my house?" I lightly laugh.
"No, silly, my motor bike." He kisses the end of my nose as I blush. Of course he did.
"Did you want a new shirt?" I ask him. I'm sure there's spares of his shirts laying around here somewhere. I usually sleep in them.
"This'll do for now." He pulls me closer. After a few moments of silence between us Zayn asks me. "Are you ok?" In the most sincere way. He's not asking it like how friends do, like how councillors or family members do. He's asking me if I'm happy. Like truly happy, and right now, with him here, I am.
"I'll survive." I mumble into his shoulder as we hear my parents scream at each other again.
"Surviving is not living Elly." Zayn says, disapprovingly. I sigh and pull away, walking over to my bed and sitting down. Zayn follows me.
"I just scared." I admit.
"Of what?" Zayn asks, taking my hand in his.
"Of lots of things. That my parents will divorce for one." I lean against his shoulder, "But I'm kind of scared about us. I don't want us to turn out like them." I gesture to the racket down stairs.
"Oh, Elly. If your parents divorce then sometimes that's just a thing in life. It can sometimes be a good thing, but I doubt they'll divorce. They love each other too much. That's why they fight. And I don't think we'll turn out like your parents. I think I'm more of a suffer in silence type." He musses and I slap his shoulder playfully.
"Hey! Being my boyfriend isn't suffering!...Is it?" I doubt myself looking up at him for an honest answer.
"Of course it isn't." He says with all surety and kisses my forehead. His arms wrap around my waist and he pulls me up onto his lap from the side. I rest my arms around his neck and he rubs his nose against mine.
"Y'know, you can always move in with me if you find this place too full on." He says for the millionth time.
"I know." I smile at his openless offers for me to move in with him.
I run my fingers through the back of his hair as he presses his palms sure against the small of my back, pressing me to him. His lips find mine and the familiar feeling of his light facial hair grazes my chin and my cheeks. As he kisses across my jaw and down my neck before coming back to my lips again.
"His lips move in ways that help me forget. Forget my parents yelling down stairs. Forget the reasons why their yelling. The only thing that matters is us. Him and me. Zayn and Elly.
"I love you." I whisper into a kiss.
"I love you." He replies before removing his wet shirt.
-By Ellie
