#1 Changing him (Zayn Malik)
Blurb: Truth never hurt as much as when (Y/N) came face to face with Zayn's dark side.
Warning: Sexual Content
(Y/N)'s POV
The noise of the water cascading down the metal shower head onto cold grey tiled floor the managed to block out any other noise that reflected off the walls of the space him and I shared. Being locked in the bathroom, away from him and his world was the only safe place I felt I had. All the dim-witted insults and childish blames were uncalled for as our heated argument turned itself into a fight; something we had never been through before.
"(Y/N)? Open the door." His voice generated on the other side of the door as I stood in my place wetting myself under the flow of water. Drenched and still dressed in the jeans and blouse I came home in, I silently cried.
"(Y/N)!" His call followed his clenched fist loudly banging the door. "I said open up."
The fear mounting in his voice was hard to ignore so was the anger. But to me, it was intimidating.
"If you don't get this fucking door open, I'll break it down."
The temperature of the water was well above what could freeze me but I still shivered. I could feel the reverberations of my heart beating in my throat while my knees felt a little shaky. It was a restless feeling that was spreading through my body, numbing whatever it passed. The images of what I saw an hour ago flashed past my memory sending a wave of chill and with the continuous bang on the wooden door, my tears seemed similar to an incessant downpour.
Given his strength I knew that with only a few pushes, he could get the wooden board unhinged from its place giving him access to the place I was hiding myself in; which he did.
"(Y/N)!" My name on his lips were not accompanied by any scold or rash words that he put me through a minute ago but this time, he was soft and a little hesitant. The first he did upon entering is twisting the knob to cease the flow of water cascading over my writhing form.
He stepped further close to me. Taking my wet face in his hands, he stared down at my gleaming red eyes.
"Are you scared?" A whisper escaped his lips sounding pure melody to my heart in spite of the feelings of anxiety. "Of me?"
I could never and that was the only thing I was sure of but the memory of him holding the gun in the alley I passed held me back. The sound of a gun shot he fired made my heart drop to the pit of my stomach and rushed blood to my brain. I knew he had a dark side from the streets he grew up on but I never thought it went as deep as possessing arms and ammunition.
"Baby, please answer me." Slowly by slowly his tone boiled down to a mere plead urging me to speak up but I was physically unable to comply. My throat seemed to constrict swallowing any syllable I tried to produce so the only way to exhume my feeling was the tears pouring out.
I was on my way home from work and being low on cash today, I decided walking was the only option possible. The lanes that led to my apartment were not exactly the safest of those in Brooklyn, like any other street in Brooklyn, in general and Zayn always insisted I take a cab every-time but once would not hurt. And as if fate wanted to intervene in all the good things I had in my life, I saw him; in his full glory. He was dressed in the leather jacket I so loved on him with his hair pushed back by a beanie. His cheeks a little flushed out of excess blood rush to his face muscles and a gun in his right hand.
It was not until I heard an ear splitting noise from the alley that ran parallel to the way I was walking on. Seconds following the noise, that I chose to ignore for my own safety, I saw a man crossing my path. He ran or rather tumbled over the injury of a bullet lodged in his left leg. The blood oozing out of the open wound drenched his blue jeans but that looked black instead of their original color in the absence of light around me. He was completely unfazed by my presence as he seemed more interested in escaping from whoever it was that shot him. Running after him, was Zayn. His right arm was raised pointing his gun at the injured stranger but he stopped just as he acknowledged my presence. His distraction proved to be a boon for the man but what he was oblivious to was how my world came crashing down at that moment. I stood glued to my spot eyeing him unable to form sentence before I wiped off the tears that had unconsciously poured their way out. Before I knew, I was headed towards my apartment as fast as my wobbly legs would carry me and needless to say, Zayn followed me.
