Torment (One Direction Fan Fiction)

Boys aren't Beautiful. They're Handsome.

“Shit.” Zayn hissed, turning to look at her. They were sitting in his car, and she couldn’t hold it in anymore. As soon as he’d closed the door, she’d blurted it to him. She bit her cheek.

“I know Zayn.” She ran her hand through her hair, finding the knot Rey had made at the back of her head, and reaching up with both hands to undo it.

“You’ll be alright, but I need to lay low for a while.”

“Well, if it makes you feel better, I’ve received a death threat before.”

Joey looked at him abruptly, causing her to hiss in pain when she’d ripped out a piece of her hair.

“Nothing too scary, just a; ‘I’m going to watch you die so super slowly you gay shit. I hope you die, polluting our world with your wacked up music.’ We each received a variation of the same letter though.” He smiled absently at the dashboard. Joey grimaced.

“Not fun.”

“Nope.”

Joey sighed, pressing her forehead against the passenger side window. “It seems I’m proving to be more trouble than I’m worth. But you’ll have to stick with me until I can get steady on my feet, seeing as all my other ‘friends’ have bombed out on me.”

Zayn pressed his lips together. “That’s not true.”

Joey turned to look at him incredulously. “Hey, we might have been at ends for the past week or so, but I’d still consider you a friend Joe. I’m your friend. Niall and everybody else wouldn’t hesitate to classify themselves the same, I’m sure of it.”

Zayn wanted to touch her, and Joey’s eyes dropped to his twitching hand, but instead he grabbed the gear shift. He set the car in reverse, starting it up before pulling out of the parking lot, frowning.

Joey smiled softly, turning away from Zayn. “I still didn’t say you could call me Joe.”

*

Joey sat on her bed. She’d just taken her pain killers for her messed up back. She stared at her hands. They were decently sized, fingers rough and calloused from playing bass. Scars criss-crossed her hands from various things; none of which she could remember. Her sigh shook out of her.

Honestly, her brother waking up and expressing his knowledge with her was exhausting. She didn’t know what was worse; the fact that Hemp had, in fact, attempted to kill Rey, or the fact that he was now going after her…or, moreover, the fact that she honestly wasn't that fazed anymore by any of this bullshit.

She sighed, dropping her head into awaiting hands. Well, of course Rey waking up had its implications. And Hemp would probably stop at nothing. He was like the mafia of where Rey worked. He’d skin you then sink you. She wiped her hands down her face, cupping her jaw and inspecting the carpet. A year or two ago Rey had taught her some moves to keep her safe. She furrowed her brow, trying to remember them

“Oh, fuck it.” She whimpered, falling back into the bed.

“Fuck what?”

She jumped before her eyes landed on Zayn.

“JESUS CHRIST!” She yelped. “In the state I’m in, I suggest you don’t pop up out of nowhere Zayn! Good god, you’re lucky you aren’t lying sprawled across the floor right now.”

He raised an eyebrow, stepping into her room. He was wearing grey sweats and a long sleeved thermal shirt.

“Calm down Joey. No need to over-react.” Joey scowled.

“I’m serious Zayn. I’m going to be super jumpy. Especially after long periods of psyching myself out.”

He laughed, walking towards her before dropping onto the floor, and crossing his legs. “You’re being stupid love. That guy looking for you won’t get in here.”

“You don’t know Hemp.”

“Hemp? What kind of a name is Hemp?”

Joey chuckled. “Hemp is material made out of marijuana Zayn.”

“Yeah, I know that, but when you name your kid- ooh. It’s a nickname. ‘Cause he sells weed.”

“He sells weed to my brother, actually. The weed that you smoke.”

“I haven’t smoked in ages.”

“What? Weed or cigarettes.”

“Joey, can we not-”

“Sorry. I’m just tense.”

She stared at him intently. Zayn shifted under her stare.

“What?” He blurted, lifting golden eyes to hers.

“You’re very beautiful.”

His eyes widened, lips parting…and then he burst into laughter, falling backward. Joey furrowed her brow, not understanding what was so funny about the very serious comment she had made.

After a bout of coughing and banging at his chest, Zayn straightened up and grinned at her. “Joey, you only tell girls that they’re beautiful. Boys are handsome.”

Joey blinked hers eyes at him, her expression only that of a curious child as she stretched her fingers out to his, brushing his prickly jaw. The second her fingers met his warm skin, his smile faded. Her eyelashes fluttered, shifting her eyes from his chin, to meet his intent gaze, scanning her own face, and then falling back to where her hand branched out to his cheek.

She trailed her fingers over the stubble, meeting his sideburns and then following his cheek bone to his nose, scooting forward, mouth parting as her fingers moved to his forehead. Her fingers traced down his right cheek as his eyes closed, coming back to his chin before tracing his mouth.

Zayn’s eyes shot open, pupils dilated. Joey didn’t care; his mouth was so soft. “You kissed me in the hospital.” She whispered.

I’d do it again.

“The vet called.” She pulled her hand away from his mouth like he’d bitten her. He had done something similar by brushing aside her statement.

“Did you hear what I said?”

“Yeah, but our dog’s back on her feet. We can go pick her up-”

“You kissed me Zayn. Two days ago. And I let it slide. I thought that by now you’d possibly discuss all of the things I’ve been letting slide with me.”

“Our dog-”

“ZAYN! SHUT UP ABOUT THE FUCKING DOG!” She glared at him.

“Don’t pretend to be thick! We kissed; made out! It was…I don’t know! And I’m a bit confused! And I need you to clear things up because I don’t need a distraction right now, and this-” She waved between the two of them “-thing is a distraction! Tell me what I need to know. Now.”

“This thing…?”

“SEXUAL ATTRACTION. MEETING OF INTERESTS. GENERAL FEELING OF CARE TOWARDS ONE ANOTHER, I DON’T KNOW!”

He stared at her. “I don’t know.” He sighed, glaring at his hands.

Joey groaned, her eyes squeezing shut. “Zayn…” Her shoulders dropped.

“Do you want me in that way? More than a friend?” She grasped his hands in her cool clammy rough bass playing fingers, not seizing them, but not holding them limp either.

“We always fight.” He murmured. “About everything. We can barely agree.”

“But when we aren’t fighting, there’s something good between us.” She whispered. He lifted his eyes to hers.

“Yes.” His thumb ran over the back of her hand. “I want you. There’s no reason to lie about it. But I don’t think you want-”

Her mouth was pressed firmly to his. It wasn't a kiss that was beautiful or soft or tender, nor was it passionate or hungry with need. It was a kiss that served as an answer. She sat back on her haunches, licking her lips.

“Oh.” He said, blinking.

“Oh?”

“I…well…I was going to say I don’t think you want me in the same way I want you.”

“Did that answer your question?”

“Yes; you don’t.”