Taken [Zayn Malik]

ch.14 Red smoke

~~~I updated early, hope you guys don't mind ;) -Mariam Xx

Zayn started pacing around the room and his fists clenched open and shut.

“YOU HATE ME, HUH?!” he demanded.

I slowly crawled backwards, away from him and his fury in case he hoisted me up and killed me with one fell swoop.

“YOU HATE THE MAN WHO WAKES UP EVERY MORNING FOR YOU? AND ONLY YOU!” he growled, but there was a tinge of desperation, of honesty in his voice.

It made it that much more difficult for me to be angry at him.

Zayn's ink-black quiff shook out of place, causing a few strands to fall over his eyes.

"I COULD HAVE KILLED MYSELF YEARS AGO! BUT I DIDN'T I WAITED AND WAITED AND GOD FINALLY ANSWERED MY PRAYERS WITH YOU! I JUST WANT, I JUST NEED YOU!" he shouted in frustration. 

My hands trembled in the chains and I scooted back carefully.

“I LOVE YOU, TARINI, WHY CAN’T YOU ACCEPT THAT!? WHY IS THAT SO DAMN HARD TO BELIEVE!?” he bellowed and he ran to me.

He grabbed my face in his hands and squeezed slightly, enough to force me to look into his eyes.

I forgot if I was still breathing because my heart was thumping, blaring in my ears, making it hard to hear anything else.

But I heard Zayn loud and clear.

“I- I don’t. I cant-” I mumbled as my voice quivered.

Zayn’s eyes widened until they stared at me like glowing emeralds.

He turned to look at the cellar for something to hurt me with and he saw a heavy, wooden chair.

He hoisted up a chair and smashed it against the wall, making the tiny glass beads that rimmed the chair, burst into thousands of pieces.

I coiled into a terrified ball, but the chains made it hard for me to move very much.

Zayn took a deep breath and smoothed his hair back into his quiff. Then he took slow steps toward me and looked up into my eyes.

“I’m- I’m sorry” he apologized quickly, slightly embarrassed at his outburst.

I nodded slowly.

This was how it was going to be. Me: all chained up, quiet and quivering. Zayn: a menacing maniac who would throw things and torture me as he pleased.

I looked up at the moist ceiling, searching for whoever was up there, whoever had the all-power, all-knowing control to save me from my misery. To take me home, back where I belonged.

I shook my head. If He is up there, he’s not listening to any of my screams of prayers. He’s watching, waiting until I crack.

***

Zayn and I were silent for the next few weeks.

I didn’t dare complain even though my wrists had permanent purple rings around them. Zayn slept beside me, kept his arm around my waist as he escorted me everywhere, and kissed my cheeks every morning.

He watched me take every breath. He stared as I took bites of his nameless fruit. And despite his threat, he had the maid watch me as I showered.

He didn’t push for more and he didn’t do any less. It became so routine that I leaned close to him sometimes, without even thinking, letting him kiss me and hold my hand before he had reached for me.

I honestly didn’t care anymore. And whenever he wanted to, he could take what he ‘needed.’ I was sure after God knows how many years he’s been on this island, that he was definitely ‘in need’ of ‘it.’