Gone in an Instant. (Demi Lovato/Zayn Malik)

Chapter 2

A/N: Dedicating this Chapter to my savior @Dancin_with_Niall72 because she helped me get past my bad case of writer's block! :)

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I resist the urge to roll my eyes as I stare at the woman in front of me, who will not shut-up. I've been here 38 minutes and she won't stop asking me questions. I don't plan on saying anything to her, but her overly sweet personality makes me want to slit her throat. I continue to zone out until I hear,

"Demi... Demi are you okay?" Whatever-her-name-is asks leaning forward more.

"I'm fine." I reply harshly and stand to exit the small therapy room. I assume that my session is done, but I'm not turning around to find out.

I walk briskly down the hall toward the dining area. Once I round the corner, I push the door open unnoticeably, sighing once the crisp autumn air hits my face.

"I thought this would be a good place to find you again." I slightly jump when I hear another voice. I shift my gaze to the side, not surprised to see Zayn resting contently on one of the wooden benches. It's been a day or so since the first time we spoke, I haven't seen him since.

"Well you found me." I reply, while taking a seat next to him. I watch intently as he takes a bite of the sandwich in his hand.

"You want the other half? Peanut butter was all they had." A small smile spreads across my face at his polite offer. That accent of his really does make him quite adorable.

Those thoughts are quickly washed away as I realize he's patently waiting for an answer.

"No thanks. I'm still not really hungry. Lunch isn't my thing." I answer, dread instantly filling my mind when my stomach growls from the lack of food. Even though I've been here for a week, I've somehow still managed to get away with eating less than I should. Wether it's because I've been here for a small matter of days, or that they haven't taken my weight yet, I don't know. I do know it's wrong, but I'm going to try and get away with it as long as possible.

"C'mon I know you've got to be hungry. Are you sure you don't want just one part?" I shake my head no, not trusting my voice. I feel guilty rejecting him.

"Alright." He says skeptically, "So how are you?" Zayn changes the subject, sensing my discomfort.

"I'm okay." I respond plainly. I can feel myself on the edge of a breakdown from everything building up inside of me and I know it's only a matter of time before I break.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Zayn stops eating and focuses his attention on me. "You can tell me, you know."

"I can't tell you, because I, myself, don't even know what's wrong." I say, while trying to choke back my tears. Zayn frowns and stares at the fallen leaves beneath our feet.

"You know, it's okay to cry sometimes." He quietly states. I avoid looking at Zayn as I try to calm myself down, but fail miserably as tears start to freely fall down my cheeks.

"I know I haven't been here half as long as you, but I don't think I can handle it. I hate that these people need to know every detail of your daily routine, and that they control how you spend all of your time. I hate that I feel like I've fucked every possible thing up in my life and that every moment I spend sitting in one of these rooms, or talking to one of these shitty therapists, I'm constantly reminded of how much of a screw up I am. I hate myself for even being here in the first place. I-I just, hate it here." My eyes widen once I realize that I actually said that out loud, and not in my head like it was intended.

"I'm sorry Zayn." I quickly add while looking down at the ground, "I'm sure you don't want to hear about my problems, I still barely even know you."

Nothing but the sound of the wind rustling the leaves fills the air between us. Seconds were turning into minutes. I knew I made a big mistake in saying anything, just like always.

"Listen," Zayn finally speaks, "I know it's hard here. Nobody said it would be easy. Sometimes, I also wonder if I'll ever get out..." He pauses briefly before continuing, "I guess what I'm trying to say is, you're not alone. You can talk to me anytime, Demetria."

"Thanks, Zayn." I stay silent for a few seconds before asking,

"Why do you always call me that?"

"What?" A smile spreads across his face which makes me want to laugh. "Demetria?"

"Nobody ever calls me by my full name." I reply seriously. I usually didn't want people calling me by my full name, but I could tell Zayn liked saying it.

"I think you have a beautiful name, Demetria. Just like you." I can feel myself blushing at his comment, but quickly brush it off.

"Meet me here tomorrow?" I ask, as I get up from my spot on the bench.

"Of course, what else do you think I have to do?" I smile when he happily agrees. I was about to go back into the building when I felt his hand on my shoulder.

"Before you go, I just want you to have this." He holds out a small piece of paper with a three-digit number scribbled on it. "I know it's against the rules to visit other sides of the facility, but this is my room. Just in case." I nod my head, knowing exactly what he means.

"See you tomorrow, Zayn."