misfits // z.m

ch. 13 || pasts

XIII. pasts

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[Thalia's POV]

That night, Zayn took me out for a meal.

It was unexpected, however everything he did nowadays was unexpected. And it turns out, I really, really enjoyed his company.

We turned up at a little known restaurant on the outskirts of Bradford, where Zayn and I decided on a shared seafood platter as a starter.

I loved seafood, I adored the sea; it was far more than land meeting sea - it was a most romantic place, where sand scattered at your toes and waves kissed the shore once more before it went away.

"So, tell me about yourself." Zayn said, taking a chip and feeding it to himself.

I noticed the scruff on his jawline, making him look even more rough and attractive.

"There's not a lot to tell. I, um, well my parents died in a fire when I was fourteen." Tears rose to the corners of my eyes as I told him - I hated myself for it. I could have stopped the fire, yet I didn't.

Zayn put his fork down and placed his hand atop mine in a somewhat soothing gesture. I'd never received as much tenderness from someone as he.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't know." His eyes held a certain sincerity which almost reminded me of my father's. I shook it off.

"It's okay." I cleared my throat as a distraction, "After that, I moved in with my uncle. I moved out two years ago when I met my ex boyfriend." I closed my eyes briefly to suppress my tears, trying to close off the dark part of me which encased me in sadness ever since he died.

Since I met Zayn, I'd found a ray of light.

"How...you said he...killed himself?" Zayn asked unsurely.

I nodded, and then I did what I'd never done before - I told him.

"I came home from art class, some time last year. I took art although I never did finish school.

Well, I suppose I should explain how I met him.

"It was two winters ago, and I was by the lake." I felt Zayn's hand tense above mine. I smiled at him reassuringly.

"It was cold, but I enjoyed it. You know, it made me numb. I was fresh out of school and I had nowhere to live, I left my uncle to gain some independence.

We started talking and I realised he was only twenty two, two years older than me at the time. We had a lot in common, and he was so interesting; I could listen to him talk for hours on end.

And then after a few months, I moved in with him. I was mostly living in...in doorways and rundown B&Bs. You know, I lived in the same clothes, and winter months were dreadful. There were times where I was eating nothing, but I survived just because I knew he'd be there, waiting for me the same time each day. I suppose the irony was how my life saver couldn't save himself.

Last year, I'd been dating him for just over a year. He got down on one knee and proposed. I remember that, all the time in my head, I wanted to say yes. But I knew I had to say no. I was nineteen! He told me I was his future." A tear spilled down my cheek and Zayn brushed it away gently. "It's okay. I'm here."

I smiled at him, although it wasn't genuine. I cared that he was here. I cared that he wanted this relationship as much as I did. I cared that he was making me feel whole again, though I would never admit it.

"So I told him no. It was in our apartment and I just couldn't imagine being wed at such an early age, can you imagine? Nineteen and married.

During the night, he got up. I thought he'd be coming back to bed...but then..." A tear escaped again, and then more followed.

Zayn got up from his seat and nestled me in his arms. He smelled comforting, laundered, but still the smell of smoke clung to him.

"At 3am, I was worried. Something woke me. I went into the bathroom and the first thing I saw were the...the tablets on the floor. He was a drug addict and he had told me time and time again that I was his antidote...and I thought that if I'd said yes, I could be married, have an art studio, I wouldn't be living with this constant guilt.

He was sprawled across the floor; there were cuts on his wrists and in the sink was a letter." I shuddered as I remembered opening the blood stained letter with shaky palms, crying so much I couldn't think straight.

"It said: I'm sorry I couldn't be what you wanted. There are so many things I should have given you, I promised you our future and to keep you safe, but I couldn't even manage that. Forever yours.' I memorised it, reading and re-reading it on numerous occasions. And then for the next few months, I was a mess. I'd been to the darkest side of myself and I couldn't even see the light. It felt like I was drowning in my own emptiness. But by some divine miracle, I met Dana six months after. I had no money, but for some reason she took me in and I became better.

And then I met you. It was at the lake, ironically. I saw something in you that I saw in him, and it frightened me. I developed a fear of commitment, which is why I didn't want to agree to your deal. But I realised that the short time I spent with you made me feel better, and I could see that light again, just out of reach. I'm so...scared." I paused to look at Zayn, whose face remained emotionless. "Every day I fall for you."

Zayn's eyes were shining with tears, and I kissed the corner of his eye. "Please don't cry for me."

His hand held my forearm and he kissed my forehead, "I will do everything in my power to make you happy."

His lips sealed mine and I could taste its urgency; I could feel the depth of his promise seeping into my bones.

"You're famous." I stated blankly. "But what if I never fit in? I'm a misfit."

"You're different, but that's why I'm so insanely attracted to you. Does that make me a misfit too?"

Forgetting about our seafood platter, I smiled and lifted a cold chip to my mouth.

"I'll try, for you." I whispered.