The Catch | Zayn Malik

The Catch ; Chapter 31.

31.

That Friday, Blythe was feeling more than down. It was anything specific, but she just felt miserable. The weather had been cloudy all morning, but luckily, no sign of rain yet. She managed to lazily get out of bed at around eleven, and then layed around until two. Three hours of absolute nothing. Bitter time wasted by a loser named Blythe. She sighed moodily and walked into her bedroom. Changing into grey woolen leggings, a thick (wooly) forest green sweater, and her black winter combat boots, she stuffed her keys in her pocket and left her loft.

Signaling a cab from the busy road, a cab quickly came to her aid. As Blythe was about to open the door, the cab door flew open, revealing none other than Zayn Malik. Blythe couldn't resist to roll her eyes and scoff very loudly. Zayn looked up alarmed. His facial features immediately softened into a sad, apologetic look.

"Look Blythe-" Zayn started before Blythe cut him off rudely.

"No."

"But-"

"No."

"Blythe!" Zayn sneered sternly. Blythe crossed her arms like a child and huffed. She even added a stomp on the ground for emphasis.

"Can we just talk?" He asked calmly. Zayn's expression was now beaten down and weathered. A long piece of hair fell into Blythe's face, and she huffed it away from the corner of her mouth.

"Why?" She responded defensively. Zayn knew it wasn't going to be a fight he'd easily win.

"Because. Because I can prove to you that I'm not a total twat." Zayn answered, flinging his arms to his sides. Blythe bit the inside of her lip and tilted her head. She studied Zayn for a second, which felt like an hour to Zayn. Zayn then bit his bottom lip and gave a wry smile. Blythe frowned. She wasn't going to be 'sucked in' into his beautifully sculpted looks. Not today, and not ever. But instead, she had an idea. Glancing at the cab (whose driver was waiting for Zayn's cash), Blythe was ready to give Zayn a taste of his own medicine.

"When are you busy 'til?" Blythe asked unexpectedly. Zayn raised an eyebrow, but answered none-the-less.

"Five..." He replied, looking at Blythe as if she had three heads. Blythe bit her lip hard to resist a smile.

"Get in the car." She ordered, stepping towards Zayn. Zayn stepped back, and stumbled on the curb. He grabbed the roof of the car for support.

"What?" Zayn asked, shocked by Blythe's proposal.

"You want to talk? Then get in the car." Blythe repeated. Zayn gulped and stared down at her. He couldn't read her mind, or her expression exactly. Normally he could with others, and sometimes with Blythe. But it seemed that the dinner Blythe was serving for Zayn, would be one he wouldn't like.

Hesitantly, he slid into the backseat of the cab, with Blythe following beside him.

"Take us to Kings Cross." Blythe demanded.

"Kings Cross!?" Zayn exclaimed loudly. Blythe smirked and nodded her head. The driver glanced at his rearview mirror in curiosity and worry. Blythe gave the driver a 'thumbs up' and motioned for him to drive. Following his job, he stepped on the pedal and the car jolted to life.

"Why are we going to Kings Cross? Where are we going when we get to Kings Cross?" Zayn fired questions. Blythe rolled her eyes again, already tired from his annoyance. It felt like she was in a car with a five year old.

"Can you shut up before I push you out the window?" Blythe sneered, slapping the middle seat beside her. Zayn scoffed loudly and gave her a dirty look.

"Shut up? You're telling me to shut up?" Zayn hissed, jolting randomly in his seat from anger. Blythe gave loud a loud laugh and clapped her hands sharply.

"Aw, does little Zayn get special treatment because he's a superstar?" She teased in a baby-voice. Zayn fired another dirty look and rolled his eyes for the last time. Blythe smirked and crossed her arms in triumphant.

"I thought I came here to talk." Zayn reasoned, her voice tone going back to normal. Blythe gave a huff of breath from her nose.

"We'll talk on the train, it's an hour long." Blythe replied, wanting to end the conversation as soon as possible. Zayn gave a sigh of defeat, his mind running with questions. As he saw Blythe turned away from him and staring out the window, he took it as a cue for a literal 'shut up'. Gladly, he didn't want to talk anymore either. So, crossed her arms in a comfortable position and slouched back in the chair. This was going to be one hell of a crazy ride.

*

As they arrived at Kings Cross, Blythe's eyes widened two times the size. Zayn was worried greatly of all the people wandering about. Surely there would be many fans who would notice him as Zayn Malik of One Direction. He hadn't had any time to think of it, as Blythe grabbed his arm tightly and hurried him to the gift shop.

"Stay. I'm gunna' go buy something." Blythe ordered, motioning her palms out for a stay motion. Zayn cupped his hands and gave a sarcastic look. "Woof, woof." He replied as Blythe smirked. She then spun on her heel and weaved her way through the angry customers. Zayn dropped his arms and began to look around. He found an obnoxious tourist hat with the British Flag printed on it, a pair of cheap black sunglasses, and a navy blue scarf. With the bundle of clothes in his arms, he waddled over to the cashier and dumped the items on the counter. The cashier gave him an odd look, but went about her business.

Behind him, Blythe trotted up and carefully placed a bouquet of yellow flowers on the counter. Zayn eyed the flowers with questionability.

"These too?" The cashier asked in a monotone voice. Zayn snapped up from the flowers and stared at the cashier. He wasn't tuning in for what the employee was saying.

"Yes. They're together, he's paying." Blythe replied, swatting Zayn hard in the arm. Zayn's arm jolted in the impact, but it didn't hurt. Blythe was after all weak in strength.

"Total is forty-six pounds and thirty pence." The cashier said. Zayn gave a low mumbled and reluctantly handed him a fifty pound bill. The cashier gladly took it and gave Zayn back his change. Even though Zayn had good loads of money (from his work) he was wise about spending money, unlike his other bandmates.

"Thank you!" Blythe said cheerfully, grabbing the boquet by the crook and hopping out of the shop. Zay nodded his head at the cashier and grabbed his items, following Blythe right on her heels.

As Zayn hastily placed the items on his body, Blythe looked at him confusingly. She then realized what he was doing as he placed the hat comfortably on his head.

"How do I look?" He asked begrudgingly. Blythe started to gently tap the roses on her cheek, examining Zayn. Zayn then stroke a model pose, which put on hidden smile on Blythe's face. She took a large step forward, and with a swift move, pulled the tip of Zayn's hat down. As it covered his face, she stepped back and gave him a curt nod.

"Now, you look beautiful." She laughed as Zayn adjusted his hat so he could see. Blythe's smile immediately faded as she reminded herself that she was still mad at Zayn. As they went up to the toll booth and paid for their ticket, Blythe lead them to their correct train. Seating at a concealed glass carriage, Blythe carefully set the yellow roses down on the seat beside her. She then got in a comfortable position of where her legs were criss-crossed and her head was resting on the window ledge. Zayn took the vacant seat across from her and sat in a formal situation.

"Now can we talk?" He proposed, his expression going from content to serious. Blythe sighed and shrugged, getting up for her position. She dug her elbows into her knees and rested her head on her palms. In this position, she was looking straight at Zayn.

"Go." She finally said. Zayn took a deep breath and began his apology.

"Obviously, it was wrong of me to go through your stuff. And it was an invasion of your privacy, which is something that I don't really ever do, so I even surprised myself really. Anyways, really, really sorry. My mind just got the best of me and I thought ahead of things." Zayn stated, talking quicker than normal. He waited for Blythe's response, which was blank. Instead, she continued to stare at him. She'd blink once, very slowly, as if she was watching grass grow. Zayn shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"OK." Blythe finally answered. She stretched back into her original position (staring out the window) and continued as if nothing happened. Zayn's eyebrows scrunched in confusion.

"OK? I give an apology and all I get is 'OK'?" He fought back, disbelief flooding his voice. Blythe blinked slowly again. This made him even more angry. Knowing that she is wasting his time, when he could be doing something else is preposterous! Blythe should at least listen and pretend to look intrigued. This is her problem more than his anyway.

Blythe rolled her eyes and scoffed lightly. The attention span on this boy was beginning to irritate her.

"Fine. You got any questions?" She mumbled lazily. Zayn was quite taken aback by her statement. Questions? What questions could he possibly have? Well, in fact, he did have a few. And since his level of mentality is about to burst, Zayn clearly did not give any cares.

"Yeah- How did your parents die?" He asked with slight sarcasm. Any other day, it would've been awkward having to ask that, but not today. Blythe took a deep breath of annoyance. She felt like punching Zayn in the gut.

"They died on a boat. A storm came a-strolling by and a massive wave hit them. Whoosh." Blythe replied sarcastically, making wave sounds and motions with her hands. Zayn crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows, looking at Blythe with a meaningful expression on his face. She then shrugged her shoulders, indicating for another question.

"Alright, then where'd you get all that money to buy your super-rich flat?" Zayn asked, firing the question at her. Blythe flicked her hand in the air, as if the question wasn't a bother.

"My mum was always carefree, so my dad made sure to write a will after I was born. Since I was their only child, I got everything. Three-hundred thousand from house, two-hundred-and-fifty thousand from the beach house, four-thousand from my parents' savings, sixteen-thousand from both cars, and four-thousand from the government over the course of ten years." Blythe finished, ticking each item off with her fingers. Zayn jutted out his bottom lip as he were impressed. His family never had that amounts of money growing up.

The conversation quickly died, leaving the duo alone in complete, and utter silence.

*

Fifteen minutes later, Zayn grew tired after staring out the window for so long. Blythe didn't seem to mind, as she looked comfortable and content. Zayn even tried to fire up a small conversation, which failed miserably. Blythe kept ignoring him, blinking at the window as if he never said anything. He sighed with destruction. At that moment, he mentally cursed himself for not bringing his phone. Always forgetting it at home, or stuck in the pocket of his pants somewhere.

A minute passed. Just one minute. Not five, or ten, but just one. Zayn rolled his eyes and began to play with the zipper of his jacket. At least it kept him somewhat entertained. Then, he heard a faint, humming sound. It was more like broken noises then humming, since the sound was so quiet. Zayn immediately glanced up at Blythe, who he could see was clearly the source of the humming. As his gaze went to her lips, he slowly studied her face. She hadn't seem to notice, as she kept on humming and looking out the window.

His gaze then fell onto her neck, which her long locks of hair weren't covering. There, he noticed a fine, long scar that ran down from behind her left ear and continued down. Her green woolen jumper refused him from revealing the rest of the scar. And as Zay was, his mind was once again full of questions.

"How did you get that scar?" Zayn wondered aloud. Blythe's eyes turned hard as rock. Her stare fell strictly on Zayn as his gaze continued to linger on her ear. Blythe flushed a pale white. More whiter than the snow outside.

"What scar?" She replied, rather grudgingly. She then proceeded to 'purposely' ruffle her hair, which 'purposely' framed around her face, obviously hiding the scar.

"That bloody scar that you have around your ear." Zayn stated, rather rudely. Blythe scowled at him and turned away. She made sure to cover up her scar with her hair. Yet, he could still feel Zayn's stare boring into her skull.

"Every tiger needs her stripes." Blythe mumbled, still staring out the window. She wasn't going into a whole depth story about her life in the orphanage and her life back home, before she moved into a better neighborhood. Zayn was taken aback. He had to admit, it was a clever saying.

"I meant like, how'd you get it?" Zayn asked. Now, he was intrigued. Once again, Blythe scoffed loudly and scowled.

"Do you need to fucking know everything?" Blythe hissed, her pointy eyebrows raised in a scary manner. Zayn stared back at her and blinked. He even managed to swallow down the thick lump forming in his throat. "I can never get any peace around you." She added on. Zayn sighed softly and the duo went back to complete silence.

*

Blythe felt the train heave to a sharp stop. She heaved with heavy breath, her mind screaming with anticipation. Blythe and Zayn slowly got up, making their way out into the hallway and off the train safely. Blythe held the bouquet of yellow roses tightly in her hand and close to her chest. Zayn eyed her suspiciously. She still showed no signs of their future destination. Perhaps they were already here? Zayn hopped off the step onto grey stone. The sign above him read 'Gravestone', which clearly meant the town they were in. His stare shot to the moving dot, quickly running away from him. He easily caught up with Blythe with his long strides. She wasn't the tallest tool in the shed.

Blythe waved her hand high in the air, signaling for a cab. A sleek, black car squealed to a stop in front of her. Both sliding into the backseat, Zayn waited for his next clue.

"Cliffe." Blythe stated loudly and clearly. The driver nodded and stepped on the pedal. The squealing car sped off down the bumpy road.

*

Twenty minutes later, they finally reached their next destination. Zayn was on the edge. He simply had to know where she was taking him. Surely she wasn't thinking about holding him hostage, or perhaps murdering him. The flowers would just be for decoration. Zayn ignored the evil thoughts, but they kept on flooding back to him.

"One more cab, I promise. The rest, we'll walk." Blythe said to Zayn as she paid the fare. Zayn nodded silently. He realized that it would be smart of him to not talk. As everything he said would piss Blythe off. Not that he didn't like taking the piff off of Blythe. It was fun seeing her all tense up and go red in the face. Zayn would never admit out loud, but it was somewhat of a turn-on to him. Either that or Blythe had some strong effect on him.

The last cab drive was considerably short. Six minutes short actually. Very short compared to the other rides. As Zayn stepped out of the cab, he could distinctly smell saltwater. He could also hear the lapping of waves. All around him, was green. Green trees, green grass, green hills. No city life would be found here. Zayn began to thickly wonder why Blythe had taken him here.

"The walk is very short." Blythe stated in a quiet voice. Zayn nodded as they began. How right she was. The walk was just up over a hill and through a small forest, and the ocean could be seen. Frosty sand covered the coast, and the lapping water has a thin crust of snowflakes. Zayn stared in awe at the view. It was spectacular. Of course he's been to a beach before, but only in the summer. Never in the winter. Oh what a sight it was!

"Blythe let him stand for a while. A new personality took over her. She wasn't annoyed, irritated, rude, on edge, or even hated at that moment. She was just, free. Free and happy like her parents once been. With her free hand, she tapped Zayn's wrist lightly. His head shook slightly as he peered down at her. Blythe gave a small smile and took off towards hills. Zayn had no choice but to follow.

Shortly, they were atop of a small sandy hill, one that was almost in level with the shore. Blythe smiled as she saw two, small grey tombstones. Happy memories came flooding back, and Blythe tilted her chin up to relieve strength. Zayn immediately noticed the,. Suddenly, everything clicked like a puzzle in his mind. The flowers meant for grief, something to show respect when you visit loved from the dead. He didn't have any time to figure out the rest, as Blythe grabbed his wrist and led him towards the graves.

The pair stood still in front of both graves. Zayn with a blank look, and Blythe with a smile. She stepped forward splitting the bouquet evenly and placing them on both graves. She then stepped back beside Zayn and smiled with pride.

"Why'd you take me here?" Zayn asked in a voice that was nearly inaudible. Blythe forced down the nervous pool of saliva forming in her mouth. Of course she couldn't say that it was for him to feel guilty about her. Simply because, she didn't feel that way anymore.

Blythe shrugged and glanced up at Zayn. She quickly took in his beautifully carved features. His jawline was strong and squared, and his high cheekbones flushed pink from the bitter cold. Blythe now realized how it felt to be a screaming and dedicated fan.

"I guess...." She began, ut trailed off as she tried to put her mind into words. "I guess- I don't know." Blythe finally decided on. Zayn gave an inwards smile, still staring in respect at the gravestones.

"Am I the first to visit your parents?" Zayn questioned after a few minutes of silence. As Blythe hadn't replied, he looked her to see her nodding.

A couple of minutes later, the pair still stood there silently. Zayn didn't mind, he wanted to be there for her. Despite of what they go through, if Blythe needed his presence, he'd be there. Always.

Blythe bit down on her lip with massive force, that it began to bleed. Tears began to form in her eyes, sweet salty weakened tears. No way was she about to cry in front of Zayn. Not now, not ever. She thought she could contain herself with Zayn, but she obviously thought wrong. A strong gust of wind came running from the east, unbalancing Blythe completely. Zayn grabbed onto her for support as she stumbled back. He did a double take looking into her eyes. He hadn't noticed her crying. And it was clear that she was, her eyes were all red and puffy from the tears.

"Wow, it's-it's windy out here." Blythe choked out, wanting to save herself from being blamed for crying. But Zayn wasn't easily convinced.

"It's OK, you can cry if you need to. I won't judge you." Zayn said calmly. Blythe nodded in understandment as more tears began to flow down her face. Awkwardly, not knowing what to exactly do, Zayn stood beside teary-eyed Blythe. Blythe gently laid her head on his forearm. Zayn glanced down and couldn't take her saddened tears anymore. Wrapping both his arms around her, he caught her head in his chest, feeling the wet tears stroke down her cheeks.

His face rested on her hat ( as she was too short for his chin to lay on her head). Zayn stared out into the vast ocean, holding Blythe as she cried.

"I miss them so much." Blythe muffled into his jacket. Zayn nodded and hugged her tighter.

And from that moment on, Blythe knew one thing. Despite always being at eachothers throats and nagging eachother constantly, Blythe knew that she could now trust him. Finally, Zayn earned Blythe's respect.