Long Lost and Refound - A Zayn Malik Story

Chapter 8

Chapter 8 - Long Lost and Refound

Avery's POV

My hands shook as Zayn tugged me up my driveway. "Zayn, I don't want to do this. You should just go home," I whispered urgently, attempting to free my fingers from his grasp. No such luck.

"Nonsense. I'm coming in there with you. I can't risk what happened yesterday again," he said matter-of-factly, climbing up my porch stairs.

"That was like the first time it happened that badly in years, Zayn. It probably won't happen again!" I reasoned as I was pulled onto my porch, not wanting Zayn to be anywhere near my father.

"I don't care; it happened and I won't be able to forgive myself if it happened again." I groaned and leaned against the wall beside the door.

"Please, Zayn? I don't want to do this; they'll kill me. Plus, once I do this, there's no going back." Zayn looked at me with his big brown eyes, biting his lip.

"Just... think of it as a sleepover," he said slowly, measuring each of his words, tasting them, rolling them over his tongue. "Girls like sleepovers," he stated, more sure of himself. I sighed and dropped his hand to turn the doorknob. I entered my house cautiously, glancing around for signs of my parents. Zayn followed, a hand on my back. He quietly shut the door behind us.

I took a couple of steps and peeked into the living room. I groaned at the sight and let my muscles loosen.

My parents were passed out on the couch, bottle in my dad's hand and needle in my mom's.

"Well that's pleasant," Zayn muttered, coming to stand beside me. I rolled my eyes and took his hand, turning to go up the stairs and into my room. I grabbed my backpack and a couple of tops and bottoms, toiletries from my bathroom, a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt. I stuffed them all into another empty backpack. I handed my school bag to Zayn and hitched the other backpack over my own shoulder, leaving my room and shutting the door. I wrote a quick note, sticking it on my mom's forehead. Zayn sniggered. 

I'm staying with a friend for a couple of days. I would've asked you, but you were asleep and I didn't want to wake you. ~Avery

"Let's go," I muttered, taking Zayn's hand and leaving the house, shutting the door quietly behind me. As we walked back down my driveway, Zayn squeezed my hand briefly, but very firmly. I looked over at him. He was watching me with a thoughtful gaze and I stopped walking after we'd turned past the next door neighbour's hedges, out of sight of my house. "What is it?" I asked softly.

For a second, Zayn didn't reply. He just watched me. I started to brush my bangs into my face with the hand he wasn't holding, but he caught my wrist, causing me to wince in pain. His grip loosened a bit. I looked up at him, both of us frozen like that. My eyes once again caught the swelling bruise under his eye, which I first noticed in the kitchen before breakfast, but I decided to ignore it.

"How do you manage to walk and function after something like yesterday?" Zayn asked, slowly lowering my hand and then letting it go. The question took me completely off-guard and my eyes widened. "You don't have to answer that," Zayn added quickly, stepping back from me. It was then I noticed how close we were standing before he stepped away. I shrugged my shoulders.

"To be honest? I feel like I've been hit by a tram, but if I ignore it, it goes away. Just like at school; if I ignored the rest of the world, it just dissipates. Dissolves. Disappears. I don't need to worry about it." It was silent for a moment while Zayn let the words sink in. Then he nodded and squeezed my hand once again, pulling me along to his house.

We dropped the bags at his house and started making our way back towards my house, our goal being the town. I dug my hands deep into the pockets of the jacket Patricia had given me.