To The Moon & Back

{ CHAPTER ONE }

"God dammit, Elody! You can't keep doing this to me!" Zayn yells angrily, fingers tugging at his silky black hair.

"What am I doing?!" I retort, slamming my things into my purse.

"You act like you're the victim and I'm the bad guy! I'm sorry that I'm on tour and I'm sorry that you're jealous but you-"

I turn around instantly, anger boiling up inside me. "Jealous?" I spit. "You think I'm fucking jealous, Zayn? You are so conceited, aren't you?"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" He sputters out.

I take a deep breath and close my eyes. "Zayn, I am nothing but proud of you and always have been. You've come so far and deserve everything you have. And if you ever thought I was jealous of that?" I say, voice quavering as tears begin to form. "Then I guess I'm not good enough for you." I bite my lip, eyes now open to look at him. White shirt, two buttons undone, untucked. Bow tie hanging loosely around his neck. Rumpled black trousers. A bit of stubble on his cheeks. Dark circles underneath his big brown eyes, rimmed with tears.

I wait for a response, any type of movement, but nothing. I get nothing from him. Tears roll down my face and I choke out the words I never wanted to say, "Goodbye Zayn." I sling my purse over my shoulder and storm out of our flat as confidently as I can. The minute I reach my car, sobs rack my body. I slide in and rest my head on the steering wheel, thinking about him. My Zayn. We were together for two years. And now we're not. And it was all my fault. I fumble for my keys in the darkness and through the tears, and jam them in the ignition.I pull out of the parking lot as fast as I can, trying to get away from him and all the memories. It was too much at three in the morning.

"And baby, everything that I have is yours, you will never go cold or hungry, I'll be there when you're insecure, let ya know that you're always lovely..." Justin Bieber and Chris Brown wail, signaling that Zayn is calling. Next 2 You was our song, because he liked Chris Brown and at the time, I liked Bieber. It just- stuck. Now it brought back a wave of memories that I'd rather forget.

Us at the park, running around like little kids. At McDonalds at midnight, where I was only wearing his varsity jacket and slippers, and he kept his arm around me the whole time, to show I was his. When I made him watch 'The Titanic' with me, but we both fell asleep within the first hour. How he threw rocks at my window until I came out, then sang to me like in a cheesy romance movies. The way he would tickle my feet when I was mad, then make his way up to my face, kissing every inch of it until I started to laugh. How he would tweet the sweetest things about me. The first time we made a meal together. How he held me while I cried when my cousin died, taking care of me for two days. The way he could make me feel better when no one else could. How he called me beautiful every day. How I could be completely, 100% me, around him.

I close my eyes through the tears, trying to escape the thoughts swirling around in my head. When I open my eyes again, the only thing I see is two bright lights and then there was a girl screaming. It wasn't until I was gone that I realized it was me.

{ Zayn's POV }

I don't know what sparked the fight. All I know is that I could've ended it, but I sat there like an idiot and watched her leave. I had to fix this. I loved her so much, she was the one. Elody was so beautiful, but she didn't even know it. She was so sweet and loving towards my fans. She was adorable and kind and hilarious and I just couldn't believe what luck I had to get a girl like her. That's why I couldn't let her leave me like this. I picked up my phone and punched in her number. I held my breath, waiting to hear her sweet voice again. Waiting for her to tell me she would come back and I could apologize to her.

But there's no answer. I keep calling, over and over again, she couldn't ignore me forever could she? After calling her 15 times, I give up. But then an unknown number calls me. Even before I can say hello, someone cuts me off. "Is this a relative or friend of Elody Jacobs?" A woman's voice asks urgently. What the hell? What's going on? Where was El? My heart begins to race and I quickly answer,

"This is her boyfriend, Zayn Malik. Where is Elody?"

"Miss Jacobs was in a car wreck. I'm so sorry, Mr. Malik."

My legs buckle out from underneath me, leaving me on my knees. "No. No, no, no." I moan. This was all my fault, wasn't it? "Is she going to be okay?"

There's a long pause, followed by a small sigh. "She's been airlifted to the closest hospital, St. Joseph's. It-it doesn't look good at the moment. I'm so sorry, Mr. Malik." I begin sobbing into the phone and between gasps, manage a thank you to the woman and hit the end button. I had to get to her. I had to get to my baby. I call the only person I know who wouldn't be drunk on a Saturday night at this hour; Liam.

"Someone better be dying, Malik." He answers dryly.

What a coincidence. "She is." I cry. I manage to explain to Liam what happened and within the hour, we're at the hospital, sprinting to her room. Elody had to be okay. She had to be. She couldn't leave me like this, she was supposed to leave when we could together. When we were 99 years old and sitting on rocking chairs, watching the orange and yellow sunset fade from the sky. Not now, not at 18, not like this. I reach her room and burst through the door to find doctors huddled over her, yelling at one another frantically.

A nurse runs over and tries to shove me out of the room, tries to shield my eyes to see what they werer doing. But I could see the defrilibrators and I could hear the faint buzzing noise being amplified the minute they touched her skin and I could see her back arch sickeningly and the dull thud as she hit the bed again. "NO!" I scream, pushing past the nurse. "Dammit Elody, don't leave me like this! Baby please, baby please wake up! Elody please!" I take hold of her hand, limp in mine and I lose it all over again. Why wasn't she moving? Why wasn't she waking up? Strong hands yank me backwards and I feel her tiny hand slip out of mine. I'm dragged backwards out of the room, and the door is slammed in my face. I hear the sound of the defrilibrators being used again and the yelling still, but I was gone.

The last thing I remember is crying into someone's plaid shirt until I fell asleep.