Broken Wings (Zayn Malik Fan Fiction)

Chapter 8

My eyes scanned the inside of Zayn’s flat. It wasn’t what I had expected it to be. But I wasn’t sure what I had expected it to be. The floors were carpeted, and the walls were off beige. I nervously played with my fingers not sure what to do. I hadn’t really been on this side of town, let alone in another person’s flat. It wasn’t something that I normally did, being that I kept to myself for all these years.

“You can sit down Maya.”  Zayn chuckled and I looked away knowing that I was blushing. I walked further into Zayn’s house and sat down on the couch. Zayn sat down beside me and I played with my fingers nervously. Suddenly I felt Zayn’s hand on my thigh and I tensed.

“Oh, I’m-“  Zayn started but I placed my hand on his thigh and I set my hand on top of his.

“No, leave it,” I stuttered. “It, it feels nice.” I said looking at him, his thumb brushed over mine and I felt myself relaxing. We sat in silence for a little while, both of us getting lost in thought. I wanted to know what was going through Zayn’s mind right now. I felt like Zayn was a mystery, and I wanted to uncover it. I thought about how we opened up to each other, both of ourselves becoming more than acquainted with each other. I had told things to Zayn that I hadn’t shared with anyone, and it seemed that Zayn hadn’t shared the information he told me to a lot of people either, his reasons behind that being a secret.

Finally I looked over at Zayn, my mind thinking back to the newly found hole in my wall. Licking my lip I closed my eyes not wanting to scare myself out of my actions. “Zayn, who were you on the phone with?” I asked and it took a minute but he slid his hand off of my thigh, and I looked over at him. He let out a sigh and I adjusted myself so that my body was facing him.

“My sister,” Zayn said and I blinked a few times before lifting my face in triumph.

“The one you bought the book for?” I asked and Zayn nodded. “what happened,” I asked and Zayn turned his face away from me. What ever happened, hurt Zayn but he didn’t want to show it. He was so independent, so used to having no one that he was able to play his emotions well, deceiving people in thinking that he was some tough guy that had no emotions. But here Zayn was sitting before me, his eyes giving me a reaction that no one else would have gotten.

“She said that she didn’t want to see me anymore,” He spoke again, his words slicing through the silence, raw emotions brought out through each word. I took Zayn’s hand into both of mine; his palm lay upwards on my hand, the expanse of his hands made mine look microscopic. “She’s ashamed of me.” Zayn muttered and I squeezed his hand.

“Zayn, she loves you.” I whispered and he removed his hand from my grasp, standing to his feet.

“Maya, don’t you get it. My family doesn’t love me. They hate me.” Zayn said his voice raising. “I’ve been pushed away from the people who were supposed to love me. I’ve gotten more compassion from those bastards on the streets outside than from my own family.”

“Zayn that’s not you,” I bit back. “You don’t want to do those things,” Zayn turned away from me and I stood up from where I was seated. “Look at me,” When Zayn didn’t I came over to him grabbing his hand.

“It doesn’t matter,” Zayn said and I shook my head.

“It matters to you,” I murmured and Zayn shook his head. Slowly he leaned down and kissed my temple.

“You’re the only thing that matters to me Maya,”