Hidden Beneath Brown Eyes (A Zayn Malik Fanfiction)

Chapter 48 - The Big Clock

I could hear the faint rumble of thunder in the distance as the sea of threatening grey clouds drifted closer and closer in our direction. Jack and I stood in the parking lot of our apartment complex, our packed suitcases standing next to us, as we waited for Zayn's car to pull up.

It was mid-July, so the possibility of an afternoon shower was quite high. It usually rained around the same time everyday, and that's what concerned me. It was four o'clock, about time for the rain to come down, and I hadn't heard from Zayn all morning.

We had decided that he would be driving all of us to the airport, and we had even settled on a time for him to pick us up, yet he was half an hour late.

My patience was wearing thin, and that fact was obvious by the way I was tapping my fingers in a quick rhthym on top of my suitcase, and my leg shook violently against the zippers - causing them to knock against each other and make a clinging sound that irritated me even further.

This whole trip was Zayn's idea and it had been from the beginning. Sure I had supported it, but only because he was so excited about it. But it was kind of like a thought cloud that just loomed over me constantly, causing my blood pressure to rise every time it reared its ugly head.

I'd spent a large chunk of my savings to purchase my ticket for the flight, not to mention the begging I had to do for my boss to give me two weeks of vacation time. I could have easily had Zayn pay for everything, and after much arguing, he did convince me to let him pay for Jack - but there was absolutely no way that I was going to allow him to pay for me.

We would have gone sooner, but Jack's passport had taken over a month to come in. I had never thought about taking him out of the country at such a young age, so getting him a passport had seemed so trivial and pointless until now. So after applying for it, it took six weeks to come in the mail.

Zayn had been ecstatic, but my mood didn't exactly match his.

Zayn had been around even more frequently for the last two months, spending more and more time with Jack. I suppose he thought it would lighten the blow when Jack found out that Zayn had been his father all along. I tried to object, being terrified that this would just traumatize Jack even more, but Zayn insisted upon coming over everyday and spending the night on weekends and ended up winning in the end.

We held off on telling Jack about the trip until we thought we absolutely had to, and when the time came, we both agreed that it would be better if I told him alone. I have to admit I was a little nervous. I hadn't talked with Jack much about his father, with the exception of a few times within the last few months. So I had no idea how I was going to tell him that we were going to meet his father. And I was even more clueless as to what excuse I'd use to explain Zayn coming with us, as if my four year old would even care.

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I stood outside Jack's bedroom door, listening to him play cops and robbers with his toys. I loved his innocence, the untainted tone of happiness that his voice held, and I wondered for a moment if I was doing the right thing by telling him who his father was.

Zayn and I hadn't been at each other's throats since I agreed to this trip, but that was only because he was getting his way. The second I stopped catering to him, who knew which side of him would surface. He was a wild card, completely unpredictable and the biggest gamble of my life. I knew that I could handle him, I'd done it before, but could Jack.

"Jack, can I come in?" I asked for entrance as I knocked on his open door.

He only looked up at me for a fraction of a second before nodding and returning his attention to his toys. I put on my brave face and shoved any kind of anxiety into the back of my mind as I made my way to his bed and sat down at the very edge.