Eleven

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Chapter Eleven

☠ Chapter Eleven ☠

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ARIELLE'S POV

"Now," he says, "How about dinner, babygirl?"

For a moment I'm confused as to what just happened, but then I realize what he's just asked and something inside me snaps. Perhaps it's because I'm already wound up tighter than an elastic brought to its brink. "How dare you say that to me as if I'm here just to satisfy you?" My words come out like venom as I ball my fists up at my sides. Who does he think he is?

His face twists in surprise at my retaliation, but it doesn't take him long to regain his composure. Zayn takes another step towards me, "Is that what you want?" He purrs, "To satisfy me?" As he says another stupid thing, his fingers brush my hair over my shoulder, tracing the shape of my collarbone with his index finger as if he's trying to distract me.

I clench my fists even tighter, feeling my skin flush at how angry I am with him. "No, you idiot! I'm not here to cook and clean and fuck you!"

He chuckles, as if my words mean nothing to him—as if my words went in one ear and out the other. He grabs onto my arms, rubbing them softly while leaning down until he's at my eye level, "I like this side of you, babygirl."

"You think you can just get arrested and disappear on me and everything's fuckin' fine and dandy? If you want to be with me then you need to tell me what the hell's going on!" I yell in his face, absolutely pissed off with his nonchalant attitude as if everything I've gone through the last two days means nothing. "I was worried sick, asshole!"

Zayn leans his face directly beside mine, stubble tickling my cheek as I feel his hot breath in my ear, "Feisty," he murmurs, oddly sexual considering I just screamed in his face. He sucks on my ear lobe, trying his best to seduce me and in any other situation I'd be done for, but I won't let him get to me this time.

I've spent two days worrying about him, terrified that he was locked up in a cell somewhere, or out on the street. I've barely slept the last two days. While I was having sleepless nights and calling and texting him, he was out doing whatever he wanted to do. He even had the nerve to get a tattoo and piercing while I was sick to my stomach. If he really cared about me and wanted to keep me, why wouldn't he care about how worried I was during his absence? One of the first things on his mind should've been calling me to let me know where he was and that he was okay.

I don't know what I was expecting. I mean, I did this to myself, didn't I? I wanted his attention. I physically chased him at that party. Well, now I've got it and it's exactly like I thought it would be—trouble.

I shove him off me, scoffing and crossing my arms over my chest. Although, I'm smaller than him so I'm really probably not all that intimidating, but he doesn't know me and how angry I can really get.

I stare up at Zayn who has now stood up to his full height. I can't help the anger that's boiling in me. I know that he shouldn't be treating me this way and I surely don't want to be treated this way. I'm not a woman that's only here to satisfy him, I'm here to be a companion, to feel loved, and I'm not feeling any of that at this moment. Instead, I feel anger, fury, and a burning desire to slap his terribly beautiful face.

Supersonic | Zayn Malik | AU |Where stories live. Discover now