Broken Wings (Zayn Malik Fan Fiction)

Chapter 25

"I swear all of my clothes are at Zayn's." I mutter into the phone, as I sift through my closet in search of something to wear. My sister called and asked if I wanted to go to dinner, and figuring that Zayn hasn't called me today I said sure.

"It doesn't matter what you look like Maya." My sister states through the phone and I roll my eyes, mumbling a 'whatever' in return. I decide on a sweater and my faded Hollister jeans I've worn one too many times.

"Just call me when you get here." I tell her before we say our goodbyes. When she hangs up the phone I hurriedly call Zayn, which went to voicemail- like its been doing all day. I sigh and shake my head, I don't want to be one of those girls, the one who feel the need to hover. But him not answering or returning my calls gives me an unsettling feeling in the pit of my stomach. I shake my head and decide not to worry, Zayn is a big kid and can take care of himself. He doesn't need me to do it.

Sighing I make my way to the bathroom. I shut the door behind me and proceed to get into the shower. The hot water has a way of calming my nerves, that I couldn't be more greatful for at this moment.

I try to let my thoughts go of Zayn as I finish my shower and also when I decide to get dressed. By the time my sister calls me, I've been dressed and ready for fifteen minutes, and each minute was spent fighting with myself to not call Zayn; pathetic really.

I run outside as fast as I can to get out of the cold air. "Bloody freezing," I grumble as I get into the car. I shiver and Mackenzie turns the knob, putting the heat on a higher setting. We don't say anything as we drive to the restaurant, and I'm trying to decide if this is a good thing or not.

Snow begins to fall as Mackenzie parks her car and I tug my hood over my head, keeping my eyes to the ground trying to block out the cold, all of which are failed attempts to keep me warm. Mackenzie follows behind as we enter the small diner, it isn't long before we are both seated. I sit quietly, attentively listening to Mackenzie talk about how things in her life are going. The mug of hot chocolate was set down in front of me minutes ago and it seemed all I was doing was holding it and thinking about Zayn.

Zayn. My features turn into a frown as I catch myself thinking of him. I don't want to feel overbearing, but in a sense I would like to know that he is alright. I pull my phone out of my bag just as the waiter comes around asking what we would like. A sigh leaves my lips when there isn't anything from him, and I turn my attention to the waiter telling him what I want.

The rest of the evening falls into the same pattern. Mackenzie talks, and I chime in occasionally but- unfortunately- my focus is fixed on Zayn. When Mackenzie pulls up to my house she finally stops talking, which I can't say I don't mind, and turns to me with a sigh. "What's wrong?" She asks.

"I don't know," I say but she isn't convinced.

"You've been moping since I picked you up, if you didn't want to go to dinner you could have cancled." She points and I shake my head.

"It's Zayn, I think I'm being ignored." I admit looking at my phone. Mackenzie doesn't say anything, and I just shove my phone into my pocket. "I'm just gonna go inside, I have laundry." I tell her and Mackenzie gives me a nod. I walk quickly into my house, shedding myself from my coat once inside. The heat is still on which I'm glad for considering the below freezing weather.

I wasn't lying when I said I had laundry, if I were to be honest I have tons of chores that I've neglected to do for a while. My feet carry me up the steps and I make my way to my bedroom grabbing the laundry basket in my closet. I let out a groan as I carry the clothes to my washer, throwing the clothes in I realize that majority of these clothes are Zayn's. Does he realize all of these are at my house? Shaking my head I walk back to my kitchen, the thought of checking my phone once more pops into my head but I quickly push it away. I chew on my bottom lip before walking to my drawer and grabbing the pack of cigarettes hidden in the back. I quickly grab one, placing the stick between my lips and lighting it with the lighter kept in the pack.

I inhale, watching the ember color move down the cigarette before removing it from my lips. I hold the smoke in my throat for a few moments trying to get myself to relax. With each puff of smoke I blow out it seems to work. By the time I'm done with the cigarette I feel a lot calmer than earlier. I stuff the box back in it's rightful spot before I leave the kitchen and head to the living room.

There wasn't anything that seemed interesting to watch on the TV, so after five minutes of mindlessly searching through the channels I find something to watch on my DVR. If Zayn were here he would yell at me for browsing through the channels. I frown again and focus my thoughts to the movie that's playing in front of me.

At some point in the movie I begin to doze off. When I wake up again, the credits are rolling and there's knocks coming from my front door. I slowly get up from my seat on the couch and walk to the door. I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding when I see it's only Zayn. The relief doesn't last long when I see that he's covered in bruises and his lip is bleeding. "What the hell happened to you?" I ask horrified and Zayn shakes his head. I step aside and let Zayn walk in. "Go to the kitchen, I'll be there in a second." I tell him and he does as told. I follow him, watching as he sits down.

Nothing is said between the two of us as I clean his cuts and take care of his bruises. I let out a yawn once I'm done and look at the clock. "It's three am? I'm never going to go back to sleep." I mutter and turn my attention back to Zayn. "Where have you been? I called you a shit ton of times." I say and Zayn doesn't look at me.

"Maya, I can explain." He started and I stood there quietly waiting for him to continue. "Well, I was some people, and they're not the greatest of people and we got into a disagreement." He said and I raised my eyebrow.

"People? What kind of people?" I ask and Zayn rubs the back of his neck.

"He's kind of my boss." He states and I rub my face.

"Your boss? At the tattoo shop?" I ask and Zayn shakes his head.

"No, no. Um, he's the guy who, fuck, he gives me drugs." Zayn says watching as my eyes grow wide. "I-I sell them, and give him some of what I make."

"So what did you guys fight about?" I ask watching as a heavy sigh leaves his breath.

"I said I didn't want to do it anymore." He finally tells me. "We fought, yes. No, he wasn't happy but I'm done and there's nothing he can do." Zayn reassures me and I nod.

"That's good, you're coming to a better place with your life then." I said to him. Zayn looked up at me before pulling me into his lap.

"You're my better place." Zayn said softly to me.