misfits // z.m

ch. 6 || fragile

VI. fragile

[Zayn's POV]

It had been three days. Three days.

In that time, I'd been doing very little apart from hanging out with my family.

Holding up my phone to try and find a signal, I saw the little light begin to flash with a text message.
Smiling, I begun to hope that Thalia had finally realised she had my phone number after all this time.

After the deal we'd made, she hadn't spoken to me; in that short period of time, I'd already begun to miss her, and was longing to see her.

"Hello?" I answered the phone.
"Hi Zayn, it's Thalia." I heard a shy voice.
I decided to provoke her unease, "Thalia who?"
"Zayn." She drawled, and I could imagine her rolling her eyes.
I laughed, "No, really. What do you want?"
She coughed and then spoke, "Well, I just want to talk. Are you in the area? We could meet up at my place if you'd like."
I smiled, fully aware that she couldn't see me. "Okay, text me the address."
"Okay, bye."
"Later, baby." I teased, hoping the endearment would make her smile.

▬▬▬

By the time I had reached her house, excitement was tingling throughout me.
I was beginning to enjoy her company, and I knew she liked it too - I loved her witty rebuttal whenever I teased her, the way the slightest kindness could turn her cheeks a pinky hue, the way she distanced herself from me only to draw me in further.

My feet hit the ground of her driveway and I looked up at her place; exactly how I'd imagined it - an apartment near the outskirts of town. It was not far from my apartment, but she lived in a flat in a quieter area, where there were few people in sight.

"Hey, Zayn." Thalia breathed, opening the door a little while later.
I smiled at her and removed my hands from my pockets as she allowed me indoors.
I leaned towards her and brushed my lips against her cheek, but she pushed me away.
Leaving me no time to ask her why, I let the gesture go; maybe she was living with someone in the house.

Turning around, she told me to close the door and to follow her into the kitchen.
I liked what she did with the place, and so I told her, to which she laughed and said, "Really? Small talk already?"
I rolled my eyes but a smirk tugged at the corner of my mouth. "Water, please."

Leaning against the kitchen counter, I watched her rinse out a glass and then fill it with water, admiring the way her thick, dark hair flowed down her back.
She was a dainty little thing, of average height, with fairly broad hips and the darkest, loveliest hair.

Before she turned around, I walked towards her and placed my hands on her hips, leaning into her neck and murmuring, "Let's try that kiss again, shall we?"
Thalia smiled and bit her lip, unsure. She looked apprehensive, but I wanted to kiss her, make sure she knew someone cared; someone owed her that, at least.

Initiating the kiss, Thalia placed her small hands on my shoulders and decreased the air between us. Her arms lazily wound around my neck and our lips moved tenderly against each other's. I could taste the strawberry of her lip balm and could smell her Chanel No.5 perfume.
I knew it was Chanel because Perrie used to wear it.

Breaking the kiss, I asked her, "Is that Chanel?"
She nodded slowly, confused. "It is, why?"
"Nothing. It's just, um, my girlfriend used to wear that perfume."

A strange look crossed her face before she pushed me away, "I'm sorry. Zayn, this was a bad idea." She was scratching her head and then motioning vividly with her hands. "We can't work together. I just can't...love."
"We have time. Plenty of it. Can't we just try?" I noticed how, as Thalia put distance between us, my heart rate slowed down gradually.
She shook her head, "Zayn, I don't just want to be some...bloody trial and error after your first break up. I understand you and your fiancé broke up, but she didn't kill herself." Her voice cracked.

Silence filled the air and I stared at her in shock.
Realising what she'd said, Thalia covered her face with her hands and sank to the ground, beginning to cry.
"Thalia, I-"
"Get out, Zayn. Just get out."
She began to cry into her hands and, despite her plea to make me leave, I wasn't going to.

Scooping her into my arms, I sat on the ground with her and let her cry.
Her tears soaked my shirt and her words were becoming jumbled, but I stayed. "It's okay. You can cry, I'm here."

We stayed on the floor for a long time as she cried, and soon her tears subsided and she drifted.
I carried her in my arms and opened one door, hoping it was her room.
Seeing another girl in that room with a naked man draped over her, I uttered my apologies and tried to forget the image I'd just seen.

Shaking my head, I made it to Thalia's room and tucked her in bed, kissing her forehead gently.
She looked vulnerable; her eyes were puffy and her breathing was still unsteady.
It was suddenly clear why she was this way - why she put up a wall against her emotion.

Inside, she was crumbling, broken, fragile; she was afraid to love.