Voices: zayn malik

concealed-part 6

"I hold things like these in so I don't let you out." 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I flinched at the opening of the door. I really expected to see Zayn behind it. He wasn't there. Thank God. I walked into the house and put my jacket in the closet. I quietly reached the steps and walked upstairs.

I peered around the corner. Nothing. I basically tip-toed my way to Zayn's room. I reached the door feeling kind of relieved. I quietly twisted open the knob and walked in. It was dark so I couldn't see anything. I tip-toed to the bed and took off my pants so that it at least seemed like I was trying to sleep.

I got in the bed and prepared to wrap an arm around Zayn but as I did I realized something. Zayn wasn't there. My mind raced. My heart pounded. Where could he have gone off to? I layed there unsure of what to do since I couldn't search for him. Maybe he went out to look for me. If that's the case I'm in some sort of trouble. Zayn's always forbidden me to go out of the house.

I pondered. Thinking where the hell he could've gone. Then out of the blue I heard a door in the hallway. This had to be Zayn. Either that or a murderer or rapist of some sort. I decided to consider the first option. I heard the bedroom door open and my heart about exploded. What if he knew?

He wrapped an arm around me as he got in the bed. Obviously he hadn't realized and thought I was still asleep because he pecked my cheek and smelled of cigarettes. That's when it clicked. He went out for a cigarette. He must've gotten up without realizing I wasn't next to him. This made me breath steadily. I drifted to sleep eventually, knowing nothing was going to go wrong.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was around eleven in the morning before I knew it and I had Zayn in my face as usual telling me to get up and make breakfast. The usual. I got up and went downstairs, clearly exhausted. I made him some flapjacks with scrambled eggs and some French toast. I cleared the table and got our breakfast set.

"So morning. Have fun last night?" He asked blankly.

"W-what?" I stuttered.

"Don't play fucking dumb. You weren't in bed then where were you?"

"I..I-I went outside." I said looking down

"Why would you go outside?" He glared.

"Fresh air babe. I felt constricted and needed fresh air." I smiled keeping cool.

Zayn nodded and continued eating. I hated lying to him but I had to protect myself.

"Next time. You ask. Understood?" He said straight forward.

"Yes."

"And you will not go out without me. Got it?"

"Yes.."

I don't understand what the big deal was. Why did he hate me going out so much? People ask me. Why stay with somebody who runs your life? I never had an answer. I truly love him. I couldn't leave. No matter how bad he hurt me. I just couldn't.

My phone started ringing. Before I could grab it Zayn got to it. Great.

"It's your mum."

"What?"

"Are you dumb? It's your mum."

"Oh."

I grabbed the phone unsure of if I should answer it or not. My mother is the one person I dread to hear or see. She kicked me out when I was twelve for no reason. She claimed I was a whore and snuck out all the time and never abided to her rules. I always did the opposite. Now what? I'm seventeen and an early graduate of high school who's dating a 21 year old. I'm the opposite of her example. I'll go to college. I'll make something out of my life but I will not be a snooty rich bitch like her. I am nothing of her image.

I answered "hello?"

"Lexi. Long time no talk. How have you been girl?" She responded plain as could be

"Fine." I didn't bother to ask.

"Hmph. You still with what's his face?"

"He has a name mom.." I scowled

"Zayn." His name lingered on her tongue like the sour burning taste of vinegar

"Yes."

"I want to see you. Tomorrow. Ten A.M. shall do."

"Uh no?"

"We haven't had face to face conversation in a while. We must. I insist."

I sighed. "Whatever."

"And you WILL be here?"

"Yes mother I will."

"Tata" she hung up.

I rolled my eyes "that was my mom."

"No shit what'd she say?" Zaynsaid annoyed

"She wants to see me tomorrow."

"That's fine."

"With you Zayn."

He stopped eating and looked up. "Oh."

"Do you mind going around ten?"

"No."

I could tell this made him uncomfortable. My mother never liked Zayn. My father died early but saw him before he passed. My father was always my favorite. He never hit me and always talked me through it when I swore on my mother's murder. Then he died of a stroke. He was one of the happiest people in my life. Plus he highly approved of Zayn for some reason. I'm not sure why on that one.

Zayn got up to smoke and I could tell he was nervous. Tomorrow Is going to be a long day. I'm not sure why my mother would want to meet up after two long years. I can already see it. Tomorrow she's going to be her usual. Judgmental and full of greed. Her and Zayn won't see eye to eye. They never have.

I stayed the rest of the day cleaning and writing my poetry. Poetry frees my soul and my brain. It's an escape route for me. Mariah had been texting me all day. We had causal conversations and she explained things that I've forgotten. One thing that struck me odd was that she wasn't comfortable talking about  Zayn. Every time I brought him up she'd short answer everything and act uneasy.

Why? What could Zayn have possibly done to her? I wonder if he even knows who she is. Knowing my big mouth j probably let something slip from the past that made her uneasy. Who knows.

I wasn't looking forward to tomorrow. I was scared and nervous. Time is going by fast. Oh why can't it slow? Please slow down. The one time I wouldn't mind.