Speak |Zayn Malik|

Ch. 1

Sorry it took so long! 

Umm I hope you enjoy? :)

P.S It's meant to be short for this one, mainly filler to introduce the second main character, it'll be longer in the upcoming ones!

-M

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Zayn wasn't sure when or how he ended up back in the United States, only suffering minor injuries but intense traumatic flashbacks. All he could recall from what happened literally just a month ago was that his best friend is dead, he was released from army duty when he luckily got rescued from his backup team mates, and he stopped talking unless absolutely needing to. Which was around 5 words per week, if anyone got lucky enough.

Zayn's plan was simple; just shut the world out.

He couldn't find anything to be happy about anymore. The sunrise seeping through his windows in the early afternoon made him groan, the children laughing down the road made him angry, and anyone who tried to make him talk about what happened back in Russia made him storm out of his house to get a quick smoke.

That's all he was dealing with, mouring and chain smoking. Zayn knew very well though that Liam wouldn't have wanted this for him. But Zayn can't even bring up his name without tears spilling out of his eyes and down hischeeks. Once when his mother finally convinced him to watch some television to try to take his mind off things, one of the characters from the show was unfortunately named Liam, making Zayn throw the remote control straight at the screen shattering it. Needless to say, Zayn doesn't own a television anymore.

He couldn't tell who he was angrier at. The government because they made both boys go to war, Niall because he didn't warn them fast enough to the attackings, the Russian who trapped him, or even Liam, who promised to stay with him no matter what but then sacrificing himself for Zayn, which at the end made him lose his own life. 

All these thoughts and emotions keep stabbing his brain, like sharp blades seeping through his heart making everything harder to breathe. At the end of day, he knew who was guilty of all, and he didn't care if anyone said otherwise, it was him. It was the guilt and hatred that his conscious wouldn't leave him alone about, telling him he's the cause of Liam's death, the cause of Liam's family mourning, the cause of him suffering immense pain. 

It's a revolution I suppose...

Currently now a month after the incident, Zayn was sitting down on his porch steps having his third cigarette of the day. The sun was covered by clouds, signaling that rain was going to occur soon. This didn't make him budge, making him feel at peace with the gloominess. He felt his phone vibrate from inside his pocket, but didn't make a move to answer it. Zayn's been ignoring everyone's phone calls since he arrived back from Russia, his father personally having to come pounding on the door to see if Zayn was still even breathing. He hated isolating his family, but he didn't want their pity. He decided long ago that he was going down his own path, and not going to change how he was now.

Sighing and stepping on the blunt Zayn finished smoking, he was just about to reach in for a fourth one when an unknown object came flying and smacked him straight in his face. The force knocked his whole pack of cigarettes into the floor. He cursed loudly, his whole right side throbbing in pain. Blinking a few times to obtain his vision again, he saw somebody running toward him with fear in their eyes. 

"I'm so sorry! My brother kicked the ball too hard out of our yard, oh my God I'm really sorry."

Zayn looked at her for a moment. She had medium length dark brown hair, light skin, and pretty brown eyes. From just an observation he knew she was beautiful, but also found himself staring far too long at her. Quickly shifting his gaze away her he decided to look at the ground, then nodded.

"I'm fine, really."

He couldn't see her expression, but she probably thought he was between the shy or rude type. He heard her feet shuffling on the grass, before walking toward him a bit closer to retrieve the red ball that hit him. 

"I'm sorry again, we'll be more careful."

Zayn looked up a bit only to see her smile, and hell, and he was getting scared at how attracted he was feeling. Feeling the heat of his cheeks burn... What was that called? Blushing? He couldn't recall a moment he ever did that.

"Yeah o-okay."

The girl flashed him another smile before running back to her house yelling a quick,

"Maybe I'll see you again!"

behind her back, and now Zayn knew for sure he was blushing.

"Maybe" he whispered.

Five words were the most Zayn could accomplish in a week... and just today with a new girl he already uttered six, he was positive she was going to be something special for him in the future.

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