The Catch | Zayn Malik

The Catch ; Chapter 16.

16.

Blythe silently stirred in her sleep. Her nose wriggled freely from the thick fabric of the comforter drowned in her nose. As a light burning sensation started growing in her nose, her eyes opened immediately. Breathing in lightly, the burning continued. She lifted her head off from the comforter and gladly took a deep breath of fresh air. As the burning sensation left her nose, she noticed that she was back on her bed. Blythe rubbed her eyes wearily, looking around her room curiously. Just a few hours ago she was on the floor of her living room, sleeping peacefully away from Niall, Harry, and Louis. She remembered back to the night before where it was lightening like mad, the rain beating down hard on the glass window. Blythe had forced Louis, Harry, and Niall to spend the night as they couldn't drive in those conditions. She couldn't help it, she was a protective person.

Slinging her legs over the bed frame, she wrapped the heavy comforter around her frail body and dragged herself out from the bedroom. She stopped dead in her tracks when she reached the living room as she saw all the pillows and blankets jumbled messily on her couch. She muffled a thin laugh through her chapped lips. At least they managed to clean up, she thought, smiling stupidly to herself.

Blythe looked into the kitchen and saw a fresh cup of orange juice waiting for her on the counter. Getting nearer to the counter, a small note was attached to it. She hadn't noticed it before. Picking up the note between her thumb and finger, she limply held it and slowly read it over.

'Morning! Here's your breakfast!

Harry, Lou, & Nialler."

it read in scraggly handwriting. A bright grin appeared on Blythe's face of pure happiness. Just something small would immediately make her day from lazy to amazing. Laying the note down on the granite counter, she chugged down the orange juice and wiped her mouth free.

*

Blythe raised her hand to her forehead tiredly. She wiped the smooth skin roughly on her forehead, smearing away the sweat build up. Her breathing was thick and rigid, her chest rising and falling in rhythm with her breathing. Non-stop, for the past two hours her feet and body were moving jerkily around the hardwood floor. The sheerness of her soles were scraped badly from the odd edges of the boards. The music continued to play, which greatly annoyed Blythe as it were the only thing she'd been listening on replay. Luckily, the song faded out quietly, wrapping her in a blanket of silence. But only her heavy breathing was to accompany her around the large room.

Taking a glance at the window, she saw the sun nearing towards the west. No shadows became visible on the street below, as it was clear as day out. Yet, knowing an estimate of when she came, Blythe knew she'd stuck around for too long. The only reason she came down to the studio was to get out. To convince her that today was not a lazy day, and that dance was the perfect excuse to leave her boring flat. Blythe decided that enough was enough, and she needed to realize that the only thing she needed was a thick blanket, and a comfortable couch.

Blythe snatched up her phone from the floor and her wallet, stuffing the contents into her left hand. Her fingers were wrapped protectively over the objects, as if she were guarding her life. With a couple of long glides, she made her way towards the door and down the hallway, hopping down every step until she was outside.

Suddenly, a heavy object came in contact with the top of Blythe's head, sending her into hysterics. Her empty hand immediately flew up to her head, massaging it gently. As the attack happened, she let out a frustrated cry, her shoulders hunched from the quick pain.

"What in the-" She mumbled as she turned around. Seeing nobody following her down the staircase, and hearing no one from before, she stood there confused. Loud footsteps then came trudging above her, and also the sound of muffled rumbling. With her hand still cupped to her head, her eyes followed the trail of the noise.