not okay {ziam}

twenty-three

song: sweet thang - shuggie otis

[twenty-three}

i didn't do it

-

i don't know what brought me to do this. possibly it was just my curiosity -- about zayn and what he gets up to when he vanishes from my sight. he thought he'd get away with it this time, his disappearing act, but i didn't let him slither away. not for a second. i can sense his chagrin towards me and my desire to know more about him. he hates that i'm attached to him and observing the clever games he plays that i recognize all too well. he treats me like i might expose him -- for what he truly is. that i, possibly, could be a weakness for him and his reputation amongst the cops that try to rassle him into submission.

however, as i'm shoved through a police station with handcuffs digging into the raw flesh of my wrists, i realize i was avoiding being alone. i wasn't here for him entirely, i just couldn't stand the thought of being abandoned in his bedroom, left alone with my thoughts to eat away at me. i knew if i did that, there would be no return to my sanity. i needed zayn, far more than he needed me.

as the both of us are hustled into an office and told to sit, i take in the silvery hostile man sitting in his mahogany desk. he is in a pleated uniform with a badge pinned across his chest that rises and falls stoically. he has a golden ring entwined around his finger and a framed picture of his family sitting on his desk. in the picture, he's grinning and hugging his wife as his small daughter sits on his shoulders. yet as i stare at the man now, there are deep wrinkles across his forehead and his eyebrows are sternly furrowed. the man that goes by 'nilsen' isn't interested in me, rather he's preoccupied with the dark-eyed boy next to me. they share a look of bitter familiarity and i wonder how many times zayn has sat in this man's office for god knows what.

zayn exhales obnoxiously in the tense, stale air and it seems to snap the man out of his silence. with a smirk, the boy curls his legs together like a cheshire cat and sneers, "it's always such a pleasure to see you, sergeant nilsen."

nilsen immediately becomes impatient with him and cuts to the chase, "who the fuck have you brought with you this time?" he contests and i'm taken aback by the man's unveiled viperous mouth and the odd forwardness he seems to have with zayn. nilsen is uncaring of my surprise and instead pressures his fury onto a teenager that is clearly unafraid. zayn sits back and suddenly a thought dawns on me as the teenager relaxes his shoulders boldly. his lips are held in a presumptuous grin and his nose is tilted high and suddenly i'm aware of how protected he is in all of this.

"i think my little friend wanted a joy ride in the backseat of a cop car." he is utterly smug and it's scary to think that this unfeeling boy beside me was in bed with me hours ago. curled across my chest and purring with sinister delight that i knew wouldn't last for too long. zayn doesn't spare me a look, rather, it's like i'm not even here. he slouches back and rests his boots on the desk, shrugging recklessly and muttering, "i'm sure you're aware of everything already, you and i both know how much cctv video is all throughout patrick's house. i don't need to disclose much more on what happened that night."

it catches me -- zayn's trained statement and strange knowledge of patrick's home. he is businesslike and the sergeant isn't taken aback by the boy's stellar proficiency. rather nilsen seems to grow vexed with my presence and the powerlessness i hold. i wasn't sure what i was in all of this and zayn and the policeman could smell my uncertainty wafting off of me like a stench. instead, what i was sure of was zayn's authority over the man in front of me. it was as clear as daylight, sitting in front of me with his teeth bearing and his hair tousled across his forehead.