English Love Affair » z.m au

18. "I am all shades of fucked up."

Zayn

 

After hours and hours of trying to shove Louis and Harry out the door, they finally left, promising to come over for breakfast tomorrow morning.

Oh the joy.

Sometimes I wondered why they ever bought a house of their own since they spent all their time in here.

She was laying in my arms, her lips formed into a thin line, her eyebrows furrowed slightly.

If it wasn’t for the bruises covering almost every visible spot of her face, I would have thought she was some kind of angel; untouched by human fuckery.

Only she was.

She was torn to shreds by a man, who found pleasure in fucking her up.

She; who deserved the world, who held beauty that could overshadow all the world’s ugliness.

She who never allowed herself to love, yet, could fill my insides with all that was ever good about the world.

She who had witnessed oppression, injustice, and horror, yet, always had quite the opposite to offer.  

She who could laugh through all the wounds scarring her being.

She, whom I was completely and utterly in love with.

“ It’s not polite to stare, you know.” She opened a single eye, a knowing smirk forming onto her lips, as she turned to her side, properly facing me.

“ You, Scarlett? Talking about what’s polite? Christmas miracle right here.” I laid an arm around her waist, pulling her towards me, as she chuckled, shaking her head at my poor response.

“ For one, it’s June, man, and how many times do I need to tell you that it’s Scar?” Her tone wasn’t all that intimidating, as she teasingly pecked my lips.

“ Zayn?”

“ Hmm,”

“ Why did you do it?”

“ Do what?” The fingers that had been tracing circles on my bare chest, had settled themselves in my short hair.

“ This.”

“ I was in need of a haircut, and-“

“ Zayn.”

“ Scar.”

What could I possibly say?

That this was my own way of giving her the control that she had been deprived of?

That if she couldn’t control herself, her own life, then I was willing to give her mine, to shape it, the way she would have liked her life to turn out to be?

That I was willing to grant her all I could possibly have, if it meant that it would compensate her consistent losses?

She would have thought I was fucking mad.

Perhaps I was.

“ I don’t know.” I slightly shrugged under her undying gaze, as she let out a long sigh.

“ He cut it for me. He had me cornered, because I went out without properly brushing it, and he hated how messy it could be, so he grabbed the knife, and he-“

“ You don’t have to do this.”

Please, don’t do this.

I don’t think I can hear all the details about what he did to you.

I don’t think I can handle any more images being added to the large fucked up collection of the damage being brought upon you.

Please, don’t remember.

I wanted to say all that, and much, much more.

I wanted to kiss it all away.

“ He hit my head against the wall, till I was almost out, before he cut it, throwing the knife at me, before throwing me onto the ground. When I woke up, he was asleep, on our bed, like nothing had happened at all. So, I came here.”

“ Why are you telling me this?”

“ Because you don’t have to do any of this, Zayn. You don’t have to cut your hair for me, you don’t have to patch me up, hell, you don’t have to save me, Zayn-“

“ Well, what if I want to?”

I had become enraged by the helplessness settling in at the core of my pathetic being.

“ You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into.” She shook her head, rising from the bed, shielding her figure by the white sheets that had witnessed all our love, sins, and mistakes.

“ Would you stop fucking saying that? I am not a kid, you don’t have to protect me from him, or from this, or from you!”

“ You can’t fucking fix me, Zayn! You- you think this makes you some kind of hero? You think I’ll miraculously get better? You think I’ll suddenly be happy? Functioning, even? Alive? I am all shades of fucked up, Zayn, I have every bad thing in the world planting itself deep into my fucking soul. I can’t stop it from getting to you, if you’re- if you keep making me feel like this.”

She looked… lost.

Utterly, and completely lost in a world that she had been imprisoned in for too long.

I didn’t know my way through that world.

I couldn’t guide her through it, nor could I find her, when she didn’t want to be found.

“ Feel like what?” I whispered, pleading with her eyes to meet mine, to not be afraid.

“ I don’t- I can’t-“

Lost in trance, she didn’t shy away from my approaching steps.

“ I don’t know what this is. I don’t know how to explain it.”

 “ Does it scare you?”

 “ Shitless.”

“ Do you love me?”

“ I don’t want to.”

“ But do you?”

“ I can’t. I- I shouldn’t.”

“ Do you?”

And that was when her beautiful, terrified, eyes finally met my own, and God, all the secrets they refused to reveal, all the sadness they portrayed, all the fear drowning them.

They were the most beautiful tragedy I had ever dared to witness.

“ I’m scared.”

She breathed, sinking herself into me, and I could tell she was losing the battle storming within her.

“ So am I.”

“ I love you.”

“ So do I.”

And with every word escaping our desperate mouths, our helpless feet brought us closer to one another, until there was no space at all, nothing keeping us apart, distancing us, except for the fear of the unknown, the voices screaming at us both, to run, and never look back.

“ I’m sorry.”

“ So am I.”

And all didn’t matter, as we fell into our own rhythm, her lips and mine, in perfect sync, a song for the damned playing in the background, as I lost myself to her, and she, to me.

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A/N: a surprise update because you people are awesome and you got this story to 3k reads, so this is me, thanking you!

the more you read, the faster I'll update :)

ps: listen to the song I attached to the right while reading, it kinda fit. I think.

ily x