misfits // z.m

ch. 28 || space

Last time: I closed my eyes: I was so close to forgetting the hurt he caused me and just returning, but I couldn't.

That angry monster within me reared its ugly head, and I glared at him.

"You disgust me, Zayn Malik."

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XXVIII. space

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[Thalia's POV]

Zayn stared at me.
That was it: he just stared. And those plausible hazel eyes which once made my skin warm were vacant and distant.

"Let me explain," he said quietly. His eyes looked down at the dark blue bed sheets and I noticed how far apart we were.
"Don't. I'm sick of letting you explain." I spat. "Don't you get it?"

Finally, he looked up at me, biting his lip. I could tell he was anxious, and I could tell he was guilty. There was something else he hadn't told me.
"I won't let you keep fucking me over, okay?" I took a deep breath and stepped closer to him.

It hurt and it hurt and it hurt...and it was all his fault.

"I'm breaking up with you, Zayn. I'm sick of feeling sad."
It was the only rational thing to do: if something burns you, you move away from it. That's what I had to do.
He stilled. Moments passed.

And then, he laughed, patting his knees as he stood up, as if he was expecting this.
"Fine, right, okay." Unable to look at me, he went to the door. I didn't bother following him, and I didn't bother saying goodbye. He just went.

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It was unfortunate that I was still expected to work the following day. I needed some time to heal, but at the same time, I needed the money to buy the material things which would do just that.
It felt like something in me had died, or that something had merely been healed and awakened when I met him and it had finally burned out. What I'm trying to say is, it hurt. Being apart from him with no certainty of return hurt.

I still coped, though, because as much as I wanted to be back in Amsterdam reading him a book of mine or being serenaded in the hotel room, that was then, and this was now, and though that was what hurt the most, I just had to accept it. After all, he was a lying, filthy, conniving son of a bitch, and he fucking deserved it.

I had this unnerving feeling which wouldn't leave me alone. As I tied my hair up, I remembered the acceptance on his face as I dumped him, like he already knew it would happen or had expected it sooner. Zayn hadn't told me everything about his date with his ex, had he? From what I'd heard, he went to a restaurant with her and didn't answer any of my calls.
I even told his mum: his mum. She also had no idea where he went and said that wherever he went, he must have stayed the night, because he wasn't home as promised.
He never told me how the way she smiled made his heart shiver, or the way her skin was softer and more beautiful than mine. He never told me how much he missed and needed her, and he didn't have to: I already knew.

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Stacking and reorganising a selection of books by John Grisham, I noticed how busy the shop was today. Within twenty minutes, I counted thirty three people who had walked down this aisle, browsing and paging through books.

By the end of the day, I had quickly run home, narrowly missing the first of tonight's rainfall.
When I got home, soaked to the bone, I ran myself a bath. Dropping a lush bath bomb in the bath, I watched it fizz around and change the water to blue, pink and green before hopping in the bath.

Scrubbing every inch of myself, I sighed. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't erase him. It would take time, of course it would, but I knew that I would never fully forget him.

The rest of the day was okay, I guess. I had wrung out all my tears and ordered a huge pizza in celebration, playing The Verve's Sonnet as an ode to my heartache.

I called Mikhail and Dana on skype, and whilst I didn't tell them Zayn and I had broken up, they seemed to know something was wrong.

'Why are your eyes red?' was the first thing Dana asked.

Because I've been crying, Dana, I wanted to tell her.

Instead, I lied: "I'm getting a cold. I keep coughing and my eyes keep watering."

"Just know I love you, yeah? And if Zayn's making you unhappy, you've got to tell him. You've been hurt before and I won't let you get hurt again. Get some sleep, Lia, I love you."

Smiling at her, I nodded and said goodbye, ending the call and lying back on my bed. It was past 12pm now, but I was fully awake.

After minutes of wriggling around in bed, awake, I sighed. When I was younger, I was quite an unfretful baby, though for a while confused day with night. I slept during the day and woke during the night, and when I was six, I remember waking up and seeing the stars for what felt like the first time.

For a while after, on sleepless nights, I would open the curtains and wait for the stars. But tonight the sky was clear - it gave me no comfort.

This place...it was no good for me.

I needed to get away from here, and fast.

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[a/n]

soo sorry to end the chapter here, especially such a short filler

don't have much time to update before christmas but it's with regret that ive got to say misfits is slowly coming to an end

im thinking to write about 5 more chapters bc originally this was going to be a short story and im running out of ideas??? this might change if you guys want more zhalia but idk

after that i'll be writing my other stories; im writing a story called handstands which is a teen fiction

have a listen to sonnet on the side/top if you're interested

also, dedicated to @tomlinssolos for kindly translating misfits into italian

thank you all so much for 41k on here, that's insaneee! i love you all very much x