Two Kinds of Trickery (a Ziall fanfiction)

I Thought You Loved Me

I waited for the police. I waited everyday but not one person came. Harry moved out to live with his family. I don’t even care anymore. I tried calling Zayn but he only let it go to voicemail. I felt sick in so many ways. I missed seeing Zayn’s happy face, his fingers moving gracefully as he worked and the way he could make me feel safe. I picked myself up and went straight to where it all started.

……………………………

“Can I please speak with Mr. Malik?” I asked the woman at the head desk. She ignored me at first but soon realized I existed.

“And your name is?”

“Liam Payne.”

She nodded and called his office. She spoke to him a bit before allowing me to go up to his office.

Zayn’s back was facing me. My heart rate increased and I tried to steady my breathing.

“Hello Liam, something wrong?” Zayn turned around and I watched as his eyes widened. He wore purple today, which always looked great on him.

“Zayn…”

“Niall…leave.” He whispered to me as if it pained him. I approached him slowly and came face to face with him.

“Talk to me Zayn.”

He chuckled under his breath.

“I can’t. Louis and I aren’t the only ones who know what you did. I can’t risk my job.”

“I thought you said you love me.”

His face dropped and he began playing with his fingers. I bit inside my cheek waiting for his response. He got out of his chair and pulled the curtains. He practically ran to me. He grabbed my neck and paced a feverish kiss on my lips. I melted in his arms and hugged him back. He pulled away and buried his face in the nape of my neck. I rubbed his back and felt a tear drop soak through my polo. He was crying. I held on to him and we cried together.

……………………………………………………………………..

“How the hell did you learn to play guitar so fast?”

I began teaching Zayn how to play guitar when we had our secret meetings. He had to walk to my apartment because he was the only one I know that owns a Maserati. He began playing guitar like a pro by his 5th class.

“My job deals with using my hands…it makes guitar look like a piece of cake.”

We were sprawled out on my living room floor. He strummed and began humming. His phone beeped all of a sudden.

“Oh shoot…I need to go Nialler.”

I nodded, a bit upset that he was leaving. He laid the guitar on the floor gently.

“Come here.”

He gave me a sweet peck on the lips before he left.