struggling with the hate | z.m b2

Chapter 28: Phone Call

ZAYN'S POV

Chelsea's shivering body lies against mine comfortably; it's like a massage to my tensed body. My anger disappeared when I saw her scared face when I knocked at the window. Even though, I'm still a bit mad. That fucking Louis... It's obvious he wants to be the victim here. I lied. I punched him up in the van. He mentioned Chelsea, asking why she left and saying the reason why left me was my fault. And it wasn't my fault, it was his. I couldn't take it anymore; he was next to me tempting me. Harry had told him to shut up but he didn't listen. He obviously likes having black eyes. That's why I beat the other side of his face.

I set the seat flat, positioning myself to rest and making Chelsea fall gently on me. The sound she makes while sleeping, its music to my ear. She changes position and holds the collar of my shirt, pressing her nose on the side of my neck. I wrap her in my arms and hug her tight. When I feel myself falling asleep too, I hear a truck horn making both of us sat up alarmed.

"The fuck was that!" She shouts.

*

When I drive her back to her aunt's house, she looks at me begging, "Stay with me."

"Nope. You have another option, you can go with me back to our flat and you can explain what happened to Paul tomorrow."

"Zayn," She groans rolling her sleepy eyes, "I don't want them to get worried and wondering why haven't I gone back."

"Okay then." I shrug and she gives me a stubborn look.

"Goodnight." She sighs and leans to kiss my lips.

Chelsea pouts and gets out of the car. She walks slowly into the house, possibly thinking on how to explain that Paul's car is taken by the mechanics and her almost-husband took her back. I wonder if Isabella knows we fought. She might hate me right now. When she walks inside, she waves at me a goodbye and closes the door.

I rest my cheek on my fist as my elbow is against the window, my other hand is on the steering wheel and I stare at the darkness. I'm not going back to the flat without her. I look at the house and grin.

I parked the car and get out of it, making my way to the backyard with an idiotic smile in my face. I grab the ladder and lay it on the wall to Chelsea's window.

Like old times.

I loved to climb to her room late at night, find her in a towel, changing, sleeping, on her laptop, crying, doing homework or just on the window hoping for me to come and spend the night with her. It seems like it was yesterday, we were best friends and wrestling on her bed. I loved to play those boyish games with her, she was a tomboy and her clothes defined it. The Chelsea I met needed to be loved, and I'm happy I was there to fade away her scars. We've gone through so much.

I opened the window.

I get inside and Chelsea isn't here yet. I stare at her room, nothing changed. I get under the cover as I hear the door open and I know it's her by her fainting steps.

"Hmm..." She yawns. I hear the window close... she closed it... shit, I forgot to close it. "Zayn, you're here aren't you?"

"Yeah," I peek my head out, she laughs, "Going to make sure you don't leave the house again."

"You're so overprotective," She takes her shirt off and my eyes travel her waist while she opens her drawer to take her pajamas out. She takes a shirt and a panty out. She looks at me and blushes.