Tattooed Heart [Ziall] (Very Slow Updates)

Chapter 3

This is bad. Zayn thought. His fingers felt like ice as he ran them through his hair. His whole body felt like ice- heavy and frozen in the middle of his bed. He only wished he could melt into it. This is bad, this is bad, this is bad.

Zayn had been avoiding this. He'd been avoiding Niall, and now where was he? He was Niall's partner, his only partner, in music class. And where would they be? Alone, alone in Zayn's room because they had to practice outside of school.

Zayn really wanted to cry. This wasn't a good project, whether he was with Niall or not, because he never, ever let himself be alone with people. He never let himself get close to anyone, and what if he got close to Niall? What if Niall got any kinds of close to him? It would mentally, physically, emotionally. It didn't matter. Any way, Niall would get hurt.

Zayn wasn't a player. He wasn't a heart-breaker. He's never even been on a first date, because he's never let himself go on a first date. Niall wouldn't get hurt in an emotional way. Niall would get hurt in a physical way.

Zayn never let himself have friends. It was no wonder Niall thought Zayn looked lonely on that first day of school. Zayn was lonely, but that was good. He didn't want any friends. Well, okay, he wanted friends- that's all he really wanted, but he couldn't have friends because they would all get hurt. Even if it was only one friend, that was one too many people hurt because of Zayn.

"Fuck." Zayn muttered. He hated thinking about this. It hurt him, thinking about how he hurt other people. He doesn't anymore, only because he doesn't let himself get close to anyone anymore, but he's hurt people before.

"Zayn! Dinner!" Zayn's mother called. Zayn just lay there, though. He didn't want anything to eat. He was too paralyzed with awful memories to even think about moving, much less actually moving and carrying himself down the stairs.

"Zayn!" His mother called again. Her voice was a bit more gentle this time, as if she already knew that Zayn was hurt and didn't want to come downstairs. Zayn loved his mother. She was the only person who understood him.

"I'm not hungry!" Zayn called back. There was only silence for a while, then his mother was coming upstairs. Zayn already knew where this was going, so he sat up and waited for his mother to come in.

"What happened?" She asked. Zayn looked at her for a long, long time. Memories of his real mother came flooding back. The woman standing in front of him wasn't technically related to him- she'd adopted him when he was eleven. But he loved her like nothing else, because she took care of him, and she was all he had.

"I got paired with this boy for a project." Zayn muttered, his eyes trailing down to his legs. "He has to come over so we can practice together. Not today, but sometime this week and . . . mum I don't want to hurt him."

"You won't." Zayn's mother, Ashley, said. She sat down on the bed and pulled Zayn into a hug. She pressed a kiss to the top of his head despite the lipstick on her lips.

"Yes, I will." Zayn murmured. Tears sprung to Zayn's eyes, but he didn't try to hold them back. He's cried in front of his mother plenty of times, because he's broken plenty of times and she's the only one who's ever been around.

"Sweetie, you won't." She pulled back from Zayn and took his face in her hands, looking directly into his tear-filled eyes. "I don't know what this boy means to you, but even if he means nothing, I know you won't hurt him. You're good at holding your feelings back- you haven't even tried to hit me in the five years I've known you."

But you've never questioned me. Zayn wanted to say. You've never asked me things that I can't help. You've never asked me why I don't eat as much as I used to, you don't ask me why I'm so quiet and keep to myself, you don't ask me why I wear what I wear.