[COMPLETED]
❝Death is inevitable. It's a promise made to us at birth.❞
Arielle is a studious young woman striving to be a chef. Her life is full of going to class, reading textbooks, and hanging out with her friends, until she meets Zayn. Zayn's an...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
➳ ZAYN'S POV
SEVERAL DAYS LATER
I've been stewing in anger for days. It's been this endless cycle of feeling upset, anger, betrayal, and hurt and I'm over it. With time, the anger has subsided—I'll admit, not very much—but it's still lingering there as a constant reminder that both of my best friends—one of whom I'm in love with—betrayed me.
I haven't much left my house. I've mostly been smoking the odd spliff and painting more than usual, but I find that I seem to resort to that as a method of tension relief. It's been working too, because it's a fantastic distraction from my reality, and I welcome it with open arms.
I was having a great day of ignoring everything and everyone, right up until there was a knock at my door not five minutes ago and I opened it to reveal a pissed off looking Nyjah.
I slammed the door in his face, of course, but he's been incessantly knocking on the wood for these past five minutes and I'm about done with it. If only Sky was bigger and was trained to attack on command.
"Get off my fuckin' front porch!" I yell, glaring at him through the glass decorative piece above the door handle.
"I'm not leaving here until you let me explain, you prick! If you wouldn't have jumped to fuckin' conclusions, I wouldn't be here right now."
"Y'know, if you're planning on ever entering my house again, that's not the way to talk to me. Now, for the last time, go away! I don't want to talk to you, you're a fuckin' snake."
I watch him through the glass as he sighs, runs a hand over his face and then leans up against the side of my house by placing his one palm flat against the outside while hanging his head down. "If you'd just let me explain—" He lifts his head, giving me a softened gaze with that black eye of his. "I will sit on your front porch all night, I'm not kidding. You won't get a second of sleep because I'll be tossing pebbles at that giant fuckin' window in your bedroom."
"Well, then I'll call the cops."
"Go ahead," he answers, calling my bluff. "I don't give a shit. You need to hear what I have to say. Now just let me in already and I'll tell you everything."
I sigh, frustrated, looking away for a moment to collect my thoughts. Nyjah seems very determined. He obviously wants to explain what happened the other night. Tell me in detail how he slowly removed Arielle's clothing in order to fuck her.
It makes me sick to my stomach.
I initially felt a little betrayed with the whole baby thing, but that's nothing compared to this. That makes the entire baby thing seem trivial, like it shouldn't have ever happened. Maybe it shouldn't have, but I couldn't help the feeling of being double crossed. It really did hurt that she felt she couldn't share with me something so important.
