Azalea ♡ Z.M

♡ Chapter 7 ♡

Diana ~ One Direction

Cotton candy.

Zayn Malik's hair looked like soft puffy pink cotton candy that you buy your five year old at the county fair. Azalea was certain anyone could spot him from a mile away.

"This happens all the time," Zayn began as Azalea stifled her giggles. It was a pretty view. "My mum and sisters come and always leave me in some bizarre state. Last time they dressed me up as a woman. This time, pink hair." Zayn pointed to his hair styled upwards.

"Momma's boy." Azalea playfully teased him which made Zayn's heart twitch cause he loved it when she teased him. It made him happy that she was comfortable with him.

"But it looks kinda good, actually." Azalea smiled, her eyes examining the pink fluff.

"Yeah? You should see Javaad's. They dyed his hair purple. Like disgusting beet purple. Cause apparently it 'makes his eyes pop.'" Zayn shook his head making Azalea laugh a little.

"You guys should've protested." Azalea said.

"Nah, I love my mum and my little sisters to death. I always give in with them. And Javaad. Well, Javaad and I do everything together so, yeah. If I decide to cut my hand off, he probably will too."

And Azalea was a fit of laughter now, imagining Zayn as a woman, a man with purple hair, and two idiots cutting their hands off. And Zayn loved it.

"So, your family came?" Azalea asked him.

"Yeah, my mum and two younger sisters, Walhiya and Safaa. Doniya is the one that lives here with me. They arrived Thursday and left Monday. " Zayn smiled at the thought of his family. He's always been a big family man.

Azalea stopped for a second and thought, why did Zayn come to her house on Friday even though his family was there? He went to her house in the middle of a rainstorm just to leave a flower? Was she...special? And for a split second she was confused as to what it was she was feeling, but it felt like a piece of her had been put back together. She didn't want to think too much about it though. She wasn't special and she never would be.

"What about your dad?" She decided to put aside her thoughts.

"He doesn't really come often, my dad doesn't quite like traveling. He really only comes over once or twice and then just waits for when I come home." Zayn answered her question. "What about your dad? What's he like?"

Azalea froze. Her legs stopped swaying in the water like they always did. Zayn's little alarm in his brain started ringing. He knew something wasn't right. And he wanted to help.

"I, um, I haven't- haven't seen him...since....I was like, uh, ten." Azalea stuttered as tears began to swell in the corners of her eyes. They threatened to spill.

Zayn's eyebrows saddened and he instinctivly put a hand on her delicate shoulder. "I'm sorry, Azalea." He softly spoke.

Azalea remembered it all too clearly. And she hated it. She hated how she remembered everything so clearly. She shivered as she recalled the piercing yells of her mom through the paper thin walls along with the bangs that made the house vibrate and her bones rattle. She remembered the tearing agony in her mom's sobs, the furious red in her dad's voice. She began to whimper when she remembered how fourteen year old Dominic came to her room with thick blood gushing from his eyebrow and a red mark on his cheek. And she saw the sirens, red and blue flashing lights that blinded her from seeing her dad ever again.

Azalea's eyes began to cry like the sky from the Friday before. It wasn't until Zayn was whispering I'm sorrys and you're okays into her ear, that she realized she hadn't only remembered, but she had also voiced her memories.

Her voice cracked and trembled weakly like the sound of her broken heart breaking even more as she whimpered a, "sorry."

Zayn Malik's own heart shook and crumpled in his rib cage. Dense teardrops accumulated in his eyes blurring his vision; however, he refused to let them fall. He had to be strong. He wanted to be the anchor that saved her sinking heart.

His throat dried and no matter how much saliva he swallowed, the huge knot would not disappear. It made his stomach twist and churn because he really wanted to say something. Anything. But he couldn't, cause no words seem good enough. So, he held her in his arms, acting like a human nutshell. He wanted to squeeze the pain in her being away.

He wanted to make her bloom again like the flower she was.

I want a Zayn in my life :(