Secrets (Zayn Malik)

Chapter 31

Ella's POV

Grey eyes flash across my mind, a wicked smile and laugh taunting me in the back of my mind. His large, rough, hands grab my mum tightly on the shoulders as he shoves her against the wall. She holds on to the clear glass bottle of liquid, almost for dear life as he screams in her face. I sit in the distance, cuddled in a corner watching the scene unravel as tears stream down my face.

"Don't you- don't you see?" He slurs, as he releases her with one hand and motions towards me.

"This isn't you Ki- this isn't." His eyes droop heavily, as his words blend together.

"This isn't my fault Michael. Stop convincing yourself that my mistakes caused you to be a fucking alcoholic!" She yells in his face, and I flinch at her words. That was the first time I ever witnessed her curse. The first time of many to come in the future.

"It is though! Don't you get it? You- you did this to me." He grips his shirt forcefully, tugging at it as he holds back his tears. "What will it do to her?" He points at me, and I catch my breath.

"She's fine! She's not a raging alcoholic or drug addict like you!" She screams, spitting his mistakes in his face.

His hand reaches up, and I hide behind the curtain of blonde hair to make sure I don't witness this moment. He's never laid a hand on her before, but at this point, I'm prepared for anything. I press my back against the wall, wishing I could escape. Suddenly, a young boy with raven wavy hair wraps his arms around me quietly. He leans into my ear and whispers softly.

"You'll be okay."

His voice is comforting and warm. His accent thick, and rather lovely to listen to all day. I tilt my head back to stare up at him, and his soft face smiles down at me as strands of black hair fall across his forehead. He can't be more than two years older than me, and I'm only twelve.

"How do you know that?"

"Because," he shrugs, "I've got you, and you've got me." He says as if it's the simplest thing in the world.

I accept his simple notion, and lean back against his soft chest that was once a solid brick wall. We watch in silence as my parents continue to argue, but everything is silent. I can merely see them arguing, but thankfully, not hear. My body relaxes and my breathing slows, finally feeling at peace. I turn back to the boy with raven hair, curious as to one thing.

I peer into his somehow familiar hazel brown eyes before asking.

"What's your name?"

He opens his mouth to speak, but fades away as the shattering noise of my parents argument takes over. I long for him to come back, needing him to block out this memory once again.

But he won't, I know he won't.

--

My eyes flutter open, only for me to see black cotton touching my nose. I look up, squinting at the sunlight, and see Zayn with his arm stretched out behind my head, sleeping next to me. His head is resting on the armrest, and his body is stretched out across the couch. I attempt to fix myself, but come to find that his other arm is wrapped around my body. The same way the boy in my dream did.

I lay back against him, and try to figure out exactly what this means. What was said, did we actually speak while I was asleep? It doesn't make any sense, but I find it miraculous that he can comfort me inside my dreams and out just by holding me.

He shifts his body, adjusting his grip around me. I turn around and wrap my arm around his, our bodies fitting perfectly. He slowly opens his eyes, but I don't look up. I want to inhale his much too expensive cologne and savor this moment. Because it may not last forever.