TEA$ERS

Chapter 9

Chapter 9

"Would you look at that? The Princess came to be the Knight in Shining Armor. Well isn't that a twist?" The man that had just punched Zayn sneers at me. Zayn looks at me weakly, his bottom lip busted, and a cut spews blood from the left side of his forehead.

"Don't touch him." I say sternly with as much confidence as I can muster as I catch up to them.

"I'm sorry sweetheart, but I'm afraid it's too late for that." He raises his right arm in the means to punch him again, but I grab his arm pulling it behind his back.

"Get this chick off of me!" He yells at his friend who finally intervenes and grabs me by my waist.

"Help!" I scream, but it's no use. My voice is muffled by the man's large hand as he covers my mouth.

"Get away from her." Zayn says, his voice raspy and deep from the recent assault. I use my elbow to jab the guy in the stomach which was enough to get him to stumble back. Clearly, he hadn't expected me to fight back.

Sirens wail from down the street, and the man that had recently had me in his hold starts walking backwards toward his truck.

"Dude, we better bolt."

Zayn uses their interaction to his advantage as he stands to his feet and punches the guy in front of him in the nose. I quickly stand behind Zayn using his towering figure as a shield from the men. I wince at the cracking sound as the man clutches his bleeding nose.

"You broke my fucking nose Malik!" He cries.

"I'll be doing a lot more than that if you don't leave us alone." Zayn's voice says sternly.

The sirens become clearer, and the man looks at the cars coming towards us worriedly.

"Fine, but this is far from over. Bye sweetheart." He looks directly at me and my whole body shivers from under his gaze. He smirks, before running towards the truck.

"Let's go." Zayn commands, dragging me towards his own car. We both quickly hop inside, pulling out of the gas station slowly so as not to cause attention to ourselves.

"Who were they?"

"Some old friends."

"Right, because you always greet your friends like that." I snort. "God, I'd hate to go to your reunion."

"Look, you don't need to know everything alright? It's not your place."

I roll my eyes. "It is my place when I find you almost dead in front of some random gas station. What where they doing there anyway?"

"I just..I just owed them some money." He finishes.

"Must have been some amount of money."

"Can we stop talking about this?" His busted knuckles turn white as he holds the steering wheel ridiculously tight.

"Whatever."

He sighs but doesn't respond. Apparently he wasn't used to being spoken back to, but it didn't mean that I wasn't going to be the one to do it.

"How are you? Are you okay?" He asks me quietly, still looking out the dashboard.

"Right. Because all of a sudden you care now?"

He groans in frustration. "Why do you have to be so damn stubborn? You're actually hurt.'

"What are you talking about?"

After a few minutes, we pull into my apartment building and he pulls the visor down. Looking into it, I finally see what he was referring to-a medium sized scratch was made right above my jaw. The man that had muffled me must have done it and the adrenaline that I once had enabled me from feeling any pain. But it wasn't helping me now.

I bring my hand up to touch it, and instantly winced.

"Let me come up and help you."

"No, it's just a scratch Zayn. I'm not even bleeding. I'll be fine."

"I'm coming up to help you."

I sigh, opening the passenger side door and hopping out of the ridiculously large car. His bossy antics were getting annoying.

...

Zayn stands in front of the kitchen sink, a rag in his hand as he turns the hot water on. I watch as he winces when his swollen knuckles hit the water.

"Let me."

"No, I'm fine."

"Zayn," I look him directly in his eyes as I speak. "let me."

He finally releases the rag and I put it underneath the water before directing my attention back on him. Zayn's hazel eyes focus on my fingers as I slowly rinse the blood from his hands. "I can't believe you punched that guy." I mumble.

"I can't believe it took me that long to do it."

I'm silent as I wring out the bloodied rag into the sink before placing it on his face. The cut on his forehead had slowed the bleeding slightly, and his pink tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip when he catches me looking at it.

"You're turn." He says suddenly as he takes the rag from me.

He cups my chin in his large hand before tilting my head up. Taking the damp rag, he slowly cleans the spot where the man had cut me; attempting to wash away the fear that had taken place only a mere hour ago.

"And I'd do it again if it meant protecting you," Zayn doesn't meet my gaze as he speaks, but I know exactly who he meant by that.

"You cant always be there to protect me."

"No," he sighs, "but I can try."

He wrings out the rag into the sink before tossing it in the waste basket.

"You probably won't want to clean dishes with that." he gives me a playful smile and I shake my head. The man confused me. From being completely bossy to acting like his cheeky self, the bipolar attitude was beginning to give me a headache.