Secrets (Zayn Malik)

Chapter 7

Excruciating pain runs through my body, as the obnoxious fluorescent lights sting my eyes.

The blur of the room is thick enough to make me believe I'm in a dream, or part of the world unknown. My head spins, as my thoughts swirl in the puddle that is my brain at the moment. How did I get here? What happened? Hell, I don't even know. I grasp my head with my hands, and slowly run my fingers through my hair. That's when I notice the blue black shade, and the extra length I didn't have previously. That's also when everything comes rushing back to my mind.

Ashley, my new hairstyle, Michael...

Michael.

"Michael was found not guilty Ellana." Ashley's words echoe through my mind.

I shoot up in what I now realize is a hospital bed. My heart is racing, and I swear I might pass back out. I snap my head in search of a familiar face, frantically. I grip the sheets, and squeeze my eyes shut to hold back the tears. I choke, and gasp, trying to get a hold on my breathing and anxiety.

I'm such a mess. I'm the liquid spilled on the floor that always feels like an eternity to clean up. No matter how hard you try to fix it or clean it up, there will always be a stain. I'm the shattered glass, that you harm yourself only trying to put the pieces back together. Those shards have jagged edges, my past, or my fears.

A tear streams down my face, as I sit there in silence. Soaking in my sudden realization, accepting the truth for what it is.

I hear heavy footsteps enter the room and I'm terrified to even take a glance

.

To my surprise, it's Zayn.

Holding two paper cups, of what I assume is coffee.

His gray hoodie, and black sweatshirt make him look so warm and inviting. Although I have much bigger things to be focusing on right now.

"Wha- how-.." I fumble for words, confused yet comforted by his presence.

"Your best friend isn't one to keep anyone's business private, that should sum it all up." He states.

"You didn't have to come though" I whisper, my voice is in no shape to fully speak.

"I know but I wanted to" he glances down at me, holding my stare.

In that moment, I lose all sense of reality and absorb the image of the beautiful man in front of me.

"Ella," Zayn waves his hand in front of my face and my cheeks flush.

"Sorry! I was just thinking about something." I ramble, and I notice the smirk on his lips as he listens to my lie.

"Mhmmm, I could've sworn you didn't like me." He keeps his eyes focused on the television against the wall, and chuckles.

"And I could've sworn you weren't an asshole a minute ago." I retort, giggling.

He turns toward me, shooting a glare. "I can leave." He shrugs, and points toward the door. His sudden shift in attitude was unexpected and uncalled for, considering I was clearly sarcastic.

"Be my guest," I spit, "it's not like I've only known you for two days."

It's not like I haven't been walked out on all throughout my life. My mom wasn't murdered, or my sperm doner isn't the one who killed her in the first place. It's not like I haven't been through this before. And it sure as hell doesn't mean, he's going to be the last person to hurt me.

I consider my thoughts, before deciding not to say them out loud. Truthfully, I'm afraid of the outcome. I don't want him to walk out the door. To walk out on me. Sadly, my fear becomes a reality.