slow it down // zayn malik

chapter eight // no lies.

linley's pov

Ever-so-slowly, I feel the alcohol wearing off and I start to descend from cloud nine. The aftershock of my tipsy state starts to hit me as a small, irritating headache starts to form at the peak of my forehead. I wince as the performer going directly after Macklemore takes the stage.

My spirits fall even farther as I realize who exactly is taking the stage; Chance the Rapper. I bite my bottom lip, considering fighting through my headache to see him perform. He's been my most recent find and I haven't been able to stop listening to him. 

But the ache pulsing in my brain makes my decision for me. 

I turn to push my way through the crowd in an aggressive manner, knowing as soon as the bass starts to thump, I'll probably pass out. I don't get more than a footstep away before I'm pulled backwards abruptly, my wrist stinging in pain.

I turn around and let out a loud groan. I had nearly forgotten...

Zayn gives me a confused look as he stays planted in his spot. Him being the last one I want to deal with at the moment, I tug on the handcuffs, making him wince this time.

"Where are you going?" He asks in a snappy, irritated tone; the tone used specifically for one another. I know it well.

"I'm sorry, dad. I didn't realize I needed to inform you before I went anywhere," I snap back at him, my head pulsing with pain. 

Those around us watch Zayn and I with amusement. Some of the guys let out a chorus of 'ooh's as they smirk at Zayn, nearly making me laugh out loud. Zayn on the other hand doesn't find it so humorous.

"When I'm literally attached to you, so yes, you have to tell me before you go anywhere. I'd like to keep my arm attached to my body, thank you very much," He spits at me, raising his voice slightly as he starts to walk in the opposite direction I was headed. 

I let out a loud groan, throwing my head back with exasperation. Zayn weaves through people, making it damn-near impossible for me to follow him. I grumble apologies to everyone Zayn throws me into. I coil my fingers into fists, trying to take a deep breath before I go and wring his neck.

 Finally we emerge from the rowdy crowd going wild over Chance the Rapper. I glance longingly over my shoulder, wishing I could stay out there and get rowdy with them all. They all look so free and happy; everything I'm wishing for at the moment.

"Okay, we're out here, what was so important that - " Zayn lets out a sigh and starts to make my headache a million times worse than it already is. 

That's exactly what Zayn is; a headache.

"My head is about to split in two," I grit my teeth together, snarling at him, "If I don't get the aspirin from my car in about two minutes, I'm going to explode."

Snapping in the direction of the camping grounds, I tug Zayn along. He stumbles over my feet, struggling to walk beside me. I can't help but to have a swell of victory every time I drag him behind me. It makes me feel dominant and in power.

"Maybe if you didn't let yourself get so trashed..." Zayn huffs under his breath, sounding very much like my parents. 

I freeze dead in my tracks, digging the heels of my boots into the ground. Zayn lets out a groan as he stops beside me, rolling his eyes as if I were the drama queen in this situation.

"You," I stab my finger to his chest harshly, "Are not my father. You have no right to even comment on what I can and cannot do. If I even hear another peep out of you, I swear to god, I'm going to strangle you," I threaten him.