Addicted z.m

Chapter 34

Zayn's POV

We drove in silence.

I turned my head to look at her, expecting to see her passed out with her lips slightly parted and her eyelashes fluttering; but she was wide awake. Her mind was somewhere else as she stared out the window, her eyes following every other building, bird, car, or scooter that passed

"You're supposed to keep your eyes on the road at all times," she mumbled, not budging or ceasing any of her observations.

I smiled but did as she said, mostly because I knew I had torn my eyes away from the road for a few seconds longer than safe. "What's on your mind?" I glanced back at her for a split second just to see if I could get some kind of physical reaction out of her.

"I said everything you said to me for four months and convinced him in under five minutes," she spoke. She sounded as if she were trying to convince herself of something; her tone made it obvious that my question had only made her thoughts verbal and that she wasn't actually speaking to me.

"What are you going on about?" I asked.

She turned her body in her seat and finally looked at me. "For four or five months you always said I didn't understand, that I wouldn't understand, that it was safer for me not to understand..." her voice faded. As she spoke her eyes had trailed down from me to her hands as she tried to figure something out in her head. I began trying to piece together my own mental puzzle when she looked back up at me and spoke again. "In just five minutes, I sat down, used almost every phrase you've said to me, and he let it go...just like that."

"Who?"

"Niall," she said as if I should've already known.

I nodded in understanding.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

I stopped at an intersection. "What for?"

"I get now there were no other words you could've used. Nothing sums it up better than 'you don't understand'. You were trying to protect me from the unknown and I'm sorry I made it so hard for you."

The cars passed by, giving me right of way and continued on my way. "You wanna talk about it?" I offered.

She grabbed onto my hand and rested her head on my shoulder. "I-... I don't know. He kept offering to help me and it was so hard because he kept telling me how much he cared about me. I hated not being able to tell him just to ease his mind, but I wanted him to be safe as well and- ugh!" She buried her face in my sleeve in frustration.

I thought about every time she looked at me with frustrated or pained or desperate eyes; every time she asked why or the reason behind my behaviour. I thought about every time I wished I could smooth out the creases in her forehead without telling her anything. She was feeling the same desperation and guilt I went through and I wished I could strip her of this feeling.

There were no real words that could help her feel better. Saying "It's for the best" made everything worse.

So I said nothing. I think she also knew there were honestly no words to be spoken. I squeezed her hand and she squeezed right back, snuggling into my arm as best as she could.

After five minutes of silence, we pulled up to the hotel. I hesitated to pull my hand away when she lifted her head and stared at me dazed.

"Did you fall asleep?" I smiled.

"I guess," she whispered.

I kissed her forehead. "Everything is going to be okay, alright?" I assured. "Maybe not now, but it will be. I'm going to make sure of it."