Chain Reaction (Zerrie Fan Fiction Co-written With @1DAndLarry)

Chapter Four

The coffee shop, that Zayn had heartily recommended we go for peace, where I was now sat in was small, but select, and quiet, the people occupying it talking in a low-decibel, subdued mumble that suited my sore head. For now. I could feel my bruise starting to become more noticeable, and my sunglasses did nothing to help it, and we were inside now, anyway, so I had no choice but to remove them and place them uncomfortably in my clutch bag. Zayn had been studying my every move since he'd met me; but it didn't make me uneasy. In fact, it made me quite the opposite. I liked his eyes-I couldn't keep my own off them. When he turned toward light, they seemed to melt into liquid gold, but when he looked straight at you, they hardened into a warm, chocolate colour. It wasn't hard to sustain eye-contact with the guy.

Zayn placed both his hands round the mug he'd been given, filled to the brim with lava-hot mocha. The steam rose to his face, and he enjoyed it, a soft smile of appreciation lighting up his nicely precisioned face. He smiled at me warmly, one of the nicest smiles I was grateful to receive. I didn't hesitate to return it. We hadn't talked much since he had ordered the cab to take us here, but I knew something big was coming up, and I think he knew that also, as he had chosen a particularly isolated and private spot of the coffee shop.

''How long have you and Keith been together?'' Zayn asks, his voice slurred and drowsy from his southern accent. It made me want to smile, because he sounded quite sweet. I swallowed.

''About six, seven months,'' I shrug.

''And how often does he...'' he looks around both his shoulders, to check if anybody was over-hearing our conversation. He thought not, and turned back to me, and leaned in to my face. ''Hit you?''

My throat goes dry, and I clench my fists so hard my knuckles turn white. My tone is much more shaky than I would've liked. ''It's becoming much more frequent now,'' I say, ''Almost every other night,''

Zayn glowers down at his mocha as if it had personally insulted him, and I can almost not hold in my laugh. He notices. ''What? D'you think this is funny?'' he asks, sceptical. I shake my head fervently.

''No, Zayn,'' I say quickly, ''I know for a fact it's not. But... it's just... nothing,'' I break off with a sigh, and take my own coffee in my hands, and take a timid sip with my purple-lip sticked lips. It tastes good; sharp and flavoursome. Just how I liked my black coffees.

This excursion was turning out to be much more enjoyable than I had anticipated.

Zayn nods, and takes a sip of his coffee as well. ''So,'' he says, smacking his lips together and folding his arms across the table, ''Tell me how you guys met,''

I smile, wracking my brains back to the times when me and Keith were happy. Gosh. That now seemed like a life-time ago... I feel my heart beating harder as nostalgia moulds my brain, and my palms begin to sweat, because I so, so desperately wanted that kind of Keith back. 

I take a deep breath, steadying myself. ''We met at a party; the tour wrap for me and the rest of Little Mix. She was a vague relation of Jade's, I guess, and she introduced him to me, and then... well. That's when we met,'' I shrug, running out of anything else to say. 

''What was he like, when you first met?'' Zayn insists. I have barely taken my second sip of coffee before I can answer back. 

''So sweet, so kind... he seemed as if he cared about everything about me. He was the nicest guy I knew then,'' I feel tears well in my eyes, but I ignore them. ''We became an official couple after only a week we knew each other. It seemed like a match fom Heaven.''

Zayn, I only noticed now, had taken my hand across the table, and was massaging my knuckles. A small knife of shock peirces my stomach, and I snatch my hand away from Zayn, scowling. No. I wouldn't let him do that. Not only because the press may get the wrong idea, but also, because... well. Keith. I was bound to him.