English Love Affair » z.m au

19. "Help us."

Zayn

 

Torn in literal shreds, bloodied, broken, and bruised, she laid unconsciously in my paralyzed arms.

I couldn’t quite tell how long had it been, since I walked through that damned door, to find her like this.

Perhaps it had been hours, days, or even weeks.

I didn’t know.

It didn’t matter.

I couldn’t possibly move a single muscle.

My phone had been going on and off for a while now, but I feared that if I had attempted to reach it, then this would somehow interrupt her deep sleep.

And I didn’t want that.

I couldn’t afford her waking up, screaming out of sheer pain, pleading for me to make it stop.

I couldn’t handle that.

I couldn’t handle anything.

I just wanted her to be okay.

Or gone.

I wanted her forgotten.

I wanted her unmet.

I wanted to go back in time, and have her  unborn, because every fiber of my being told me that in some alternative world, if she was born some place else, some other time, I’d still find a way to love her. I’d still find her and fall for her, because how could I not?

It was almost like God’s plan for us; to curse us with one another, drown us in this raw, ruthless love, and have us unable to swim.

So we drowned.

My God, did we drown.

With every look, every smile, every laugh.

With every tear, every curse word, every unwanted memory.

I fell.

I drowned.

And I couldn’t possibly limit it.

Some people fell at first sight, while I fell at every sight; first, last, and all that was in between.

As natural as breathing, as spontaneous as any reflex reaction, there came her love.

As bright as the summer’s sun, as captive as all the stars molding into one, there came her eyes.

As full as the moon in the darkest of all nights, as red as the blood dissolving into her tears, there came her lips.

Those sinful lips that I had kissed for so many nights, yet, never had enough from.

Those lips that were as demanding as they were pleading.

Those desperate lips that had become my drug.

My very own toxic, unhealthy, probably deathly drug.

And I didn’t want to recover.

I didn’t want to be clean.

I was fine being addicted, as long as it was to her.

And I continued to drown, until I lost all urges to surface ever again.

I wanted her ocean to devour me whole, sink me to no return, kill me, because only she could revive me, with a lone kiss of hers.

I looked down upon the deformed figure in my arms, and I wondered, was she still there, beneath all those cuts, wounds, and bruises?

If somehow, I washed away all the blood, and dirt, would I find her there?

Would I even recognize her, without all those battle scars?

Would I love her, if she wasn’t so destroyed and hopeless?

Yes.

I’d always love her.

I rested my head against her chest, hearing a distant, faded, heartbeat.

With all I had in me, I pulled away, searching for my phone, because someone had to come to her rescue.

To mine.

Before it was too late.

Before her heart had stopped all together.

And mine as well.

Blindly, I dialed Louis’ number, my frantic eyes unable to look away from her.

“ Zayn, where the fuck have you been? I’ve been calling for hours, you-“

“ Help us.”

“ What, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“ Her house.”

My mind seemed to be unable to process more than a lone syllable and I had nothing more to offer.

“ Whose house? What the hell is wrong, Zayn? You’re scaring me.”

“ Scar. Please.”

My voice wasn’t my voice.

I wasn’t me.

She wasn’t her.

This wasn’t happening.

It couldn’t have been.

“ You’re at Scar’s house?”

“ Please.”

“ Zayn.”

No.

No one was allowed to call my name.

No one was allowed to say it in that certain way.

Except her.

“ Please.”

Make it stop.

Please make it all stop.

I needed to get away from her, from this, but I couldn’t move.

“ Alright, we’re on our way, just hang in there.”

And I was left again with that barely surviving body, the excruciating silence, and my deathly thoughts. My frightened eyes fell onto her again, blurred by the intense tears forming behind my eyelids, as she trembled ever so slightly, due to my non-functioning hands being taken over by nerves.

It really was happening.

She was really butchered, beaten up, and fighting for her life.

I was really here, holding her body, because my hands were made to hold her.

My eyes were made to cry over her.

My heart was made to love her.

And then break over her loss.

And then stop, whenever hers did.

I was made to protect her, fix her even.

And I failed.

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A/N: definitely one of my favorite chapters

shit is going to reveal starting from next chapter, so read, comment and vote to know what will happen asap

ily x