The Fighter - Zayn Malik Featuring

Shia the Devil

Zayn was perfection. He was flawless. I had no idea of what I had done to deserve him, but I was head over heels for him. His eyes were so dreamy, his smile so warming, his hair-

"SKYE! ARE YOU IN THIS WORLD?" Mrs Hattwell questioned. 

I shook my head awake and covered a yawn. 

"Yes, sorry miss." Zayn was at the back of the class and I was stuck in the front from being late. Shia walked in and sat beside me, excusing the class. Shia was new this year, she was a bit big-headed, not knowing the history of the school and last summer, but I didn't mind.

"What page are we at?" Shia whispered.

"217" I replied.

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I sat in the frosty grass beside Shia, who had suddenly sat beside me without warning.

"Is Zayn your boyfriend?" She asked like a willing 5 year old. I was taken aback for a few seconds.

"We're good friends." I felt as if it was the right thing to say. She seemed to consider it.

"I saw you kissing him on that stormy night in the auditorium." A nasty smile appeared on her lips.

"You know what, I'm just gonna go." I stood to leave for my next class, this was getting uncomfortable. Especially knowing that we were not alone that beautiful night.

"You forced him didn't you? You know you are so heartless to force a guy to kiss you, how desperate could you get?" She stormed off, knowing she had won. But it wasn't like that, I didn't force Zayn to kiss me, we just kissed, an innocent, magical kiss. 

I stood dazed and walked off.

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The whispers started again. The bus was too full so I had to sit at the front without Zayn. The whispers got louder when I sat. A blonde girl behind me tapped on my shoulder.

"Will your mother be proud of you when you force a guy  to kiss you for your own pleasure? I mean Zayn would never even bother with you." She giggled with another girl.

"Who told you all this?" I asked, even though I knew it was Shia.

"OH SO IT IS TRUE! You just admitted it yourself, princess, whoever said it, the secret's out, you slut." She spat her gum and I turned back around. 

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I walked slowly along the footbath and overlooked the town lake. Walking home wasn't that bad. It was Winter, yes, but the angel snow had melted a way, leaving behind murky grey and weed green, dark and gloomy, like my mood. 

"Skye!" I heard a voice behind me, I turned with a million hopes.

Zayn.

He caught up to me and we sat in the short, almost dead grass. I was stiff and numb, my cream scarf whipping slightly in the wind. I rested my head on his lap, his fingers running through my hair.

"We should go somewhere. I mean, Winter is not going to last forever." Zayn said.

"And that's a good thing."

He laughed.

"The performance date is coming up." 

"I know."

He stood up, and I stumbled up with him. 

"Let's practice." So we danced. 

We started off slow, his hand in mine, the wind overtaking us.

The routine was graceful. I twirled around, letting nature whip  my scarf and hair, letting dance and nature ignite. Dancing is the language of the body, nature is the language of change. I could hear the whistling wind and feel Zayn's radiaing warmth, his fingers touched my hips tightly, his unshaved chin brushing my skin. 

Without music, the dance got faster, nature was our music, our thumping pulse was our beat, our breathing was our rhythm. I could feel trickles of sweat, of heat, of Summer, I could almost smell the smokes of beach barbeque, of Summer promises of sun and breeze. I closed my eyes, my only grip to reality was Zayn. My feet moved automatically. I could feel sunlight that didn't exist, I could sense Amelia's presence, my heart exhillirated, my senses burned with ferocity. I twisted in the air, feeling like I could fly. My head dizzy, my legs twisting. I could feel sparks shocking through me. Sweat drenched my forehead, heart beat  bursting and I could taste, taste- nothing. Everything stopped. 

Zayn lay back on the ground, I lay on top. We were tired, but so blissful. I was partly in shock, partly excited. We kissed. His familiar fingers on my hips, my fingers through his hair. I kissed him passionately, forgetting everything. I knew he was mine. I knew he belonged to me. My cheesy, corny, adorable other half.

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At night I could not stop recalling the kiss. I looked at the few stars from my window, visualising Zayn's lips and his soft, fragile touch. I wanted to kiss him again, I wanted him to touch my hair and cheeks, to guide me. 

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In maths, Shia sat beside me again. I ignored her. She tapped away on her phone. When the bell finally rang, she stood up with an evil smile at me and marched off. 

In the hallway people stopped and stared. I felt as if I was naked, at how many people just stared at me and I didn't even know why. The whispers zoomed off once again. A bunch of girls came up to me. They were younger.

"So this is what you get up to? After Amelia dies you turn into this?" I snatched a phone from one of the girls' hand and stared at the photo. It was me on  top of Zayn in the park yesterday, but it was slightly blurred, only my body and my hand touching Zayn. The image had been edited with devil horns drawn on my head and my eyes replaced by hungry red ones. The caption was so dirty I felt my heart sink. I felt so miserable. The entire school had received the photo. They passed looking at me, sniggering. The girl snatched her phone from my hands and walked on with her group, each hi-5ing eachother. I was shattered.