She's not afraid (One Direction/Selena Gomez)

chapter 11

Stunned from the shock my widened eyes survey Niall's and Zayn's bodies; they appeared as if they would sag at any moment now. In the light that flows water-like through the opened door, I see their faces bear congealed blood and their clothes are an utter mess. My heart falls right through my socks. Zayn's blue shirt, from his side of stomach downwards was painted with vicious red.

Liam and Harry rush to either side of Niall and Zayn, lending their weakened bodies much needed support. Lopsidedly and slowly they all walk into the living room. My feet gliding on his own over the smooth floor, while my brain seems to stay frozen in cold fear. I watch from afar, afraid to step closer, because than it could appear that all of this might be just a dream, a fragment of my imagination. Niall carefully perched on three-seater, occasionally withholding his breath, hissing at the unpredicted move of his limbs. Meanwhile Harry plumped Zayn upon sofa, making him groan in pain and discomfort.

"What happened?" Harry asked, sitting down next to Zayn, Liam joins them there on the sofa.

"They got to us. We were tied on the chairs in our fucking house! Bloody wankers!" Zayn answered, but his voice was rough from the pain or maybe it was from anger. His occasional pauses in breath doesn't go unnoticed by my eyes.

Niall adds sharply: "Fuckers thought that they could get information out of us with lousy beating. But we were trained better, and they stayed empty handed." With those words, anger boiled deep in my system, as I weighed the pros and cons of the creative means available to me for exacting revenge to those who hurt my boys.

"How did you escape?" Liam questioned suspicions of their words.

Zayn tries to pull himself up a bit, but instantly deserts that thought and slumps back. Hiss in pain forced itself up his mouth, thought he covered it with snort: "Come on mate! We were in our fucking house, and you should know what that means. I was tied on one of those special chairs, and when they left us for some shit, Niall kicked chair's leg and you know it cracked easily. Don't worry; we made sure that they didn't follow us." The longer I stare at Zayn the more pale he seems to get, as if life is bleeding from him with each exhale.

Suddenly I come out of my dream-like state, as I blink and fathomed that Zayn and Niall are here with us. I run towards Zayn, like an excited monkey, and throw myself into a hug. I let out a breath somewhat relieved, but part of me wouldn't feel the same.

"Be careful love." Zayn groaned in discomfort, hastily I pull away and look down at him, feeling a bit guilty: "I'm sorry!" I breathed out, he gives me a shrug. Then I turn away and dash to Niall, but this time carefully enfold him in a gentle hug.

Niall chuckles: "It's nice to see you too."

I straighten my posture, as my eyes walk from Niall to Zayn, back and forth: "Now, we need to find out how bad you were hurt."

"Don't worry we have only few bruises." Zayn dismissed my words.

My glaring eyes turn sharply to him: "No Zayn! Don't! You won't get away so easily mister! And if there were only bruises why are you covered in blood?" My voice was chipped and clear, yet distress latched onto my facial expression.

"Wow..." he goes to speak, but I interrupt: "Harry and Liam could you please get some clean towels and first aid kit? Oh, and water for them to drink."

"We're on it!" Liam hurried to say, standing up and lost himslef somewhere in the spacious rooms, Harry did the same.

I hear Louis's quiet laugh, though I pay no mind to him, for Zayn's and Niall's wounds need me first. I kneel before Zayn and place my hands to his thighs, looking up at his ghostly pale face: "Now! I need you to take off your shirt."  I gaze over to Niall, "and Niall for you goes the same." I demanded with a voice that gave no room for objections. Niall just obediently nods, he looked like a scolded puppy. I purse my lips tightly to repress the smile, which fighting its way to my face.