Chapter 48: Over

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Chapter 48: Over

I lay in bed looking up at the ceiling aimlessly. Zayn told me to hang out in our room for a little bit, so of course there I was.

I didn’t want to be cooped up in here, but I was afraid that if I disobeyed Zayn he’d beat me like Jay did. I held up the cast on my wrist which reminded me exactly what would happen if I denied Zayn.

I would like to think that Zayn would never do something like that to me, but what I’ve lived through said otherwise.

My eyes scanned over the sharpie decoration that littered the cast. Louis had signed it first, his name written in big black letters surrounded by happy faces. Eleanor left a little cursive note about getting better and signed it with her name. Liam and Niall both wrote their names in small lettering while Zayn decorated the rest of the cast in doodles and patterns that looked professional.

“Hannah!” Zayn’s voice boomed down the hall.

That was my cue that it’s ok to come out again. Slowly, I pushed myself off the bed and made my way to the kitchen.

Louis and Zayn were standing against the counter while Eleanor was fishing through the refrigerator.

All the guys stayed with us for about a week, but then they moved out. Now, three weeks after Zayn brought me home, Eleanor and Louis became seemingly permanent residents of Zayn’s guest room.

“We have no fucking food.” Eleanor grumbled as she stood up and placed her hands on her delicate waist.

Louis narrowed his eyes and reached over to land a hard slap on her bum, causing her to leap forward about a foot in surprise.

“Language! How many times do I have to tell you?!” He snapped at her. She rubbed her backside and furrowed her brow.

“Sorry.”

I watched the exchange in shock. Louis laid his hands on her… He just hit her…

I took an instinctual step back as the abuse registered in my mind. I saw Zayn’s eyes flicker up to me and understanding immediately crossed his features.

“Louis, control yourself.” He snarled as he pushed away from the counter. Zayn approached me and looked at me softly.

“You hungry, Darlin’?” He asked me. I shook my head as I swallowed the bile that rose in my throat at the thought of someone abusing Eleanor.

From the beginning of our relationship, I’ve been a handful. I cursed, gave attitude, disobeyed, fought back, got violent, everything. Not Eleanor. She’s obedient and sweet and kind and caring. How can anyone hurt her?

“Are you alright?” He asked me quietly as his eyes studied me cautiously. I nodded and stepped away from him so I could go to Eleanor. I placed my hand on her back as she sent a glare to Louis.

“We can go grocery shopping.” I suggested softly.

“NO!” Both Louis and Zayn jumped forward in protest. Even El couldn’t help but get startled by their intense reaction.

“Why not?” I pressed. I saw Zayn’s eyebrows rise up in surprise at my response. That was the fourth time that week that I objected or questioned anything that he said. But I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t sit here and watch Eleanor be viewed as the bad one. She wasn’t the one who deserved to be hit.

Maybe if I pushed a little bit, then Louis and Zayn would see that I’m the disobedient one and El would get a break.

“Because neither of you are allowed to leave this flat without at least two of us.” Louis said gruffly as he reached out for his girlfriend. I saw her step out of his range, making his eyes turn hard. I had to step it up before he got angry again.

“We’re not twelve. We’re not going to get lost at the market.” I rolled my eyes.

“We said no. We’ll need at least four of us to go out with two of you, two per girl.” Zayn said slowly. I watched as he kept his anger in check.

“Then you three go and I’ll stay here.” I suggested, leaning away from everyone in case Zayn got mad and lunged for me.

“I’m not fucking leaving you.” Zayn snapped harshly, his eyes getting angry. I nodded silently, instantly backing off at the sight of his anger. He let out a sigh as he rubbed his temples with his index fingers.

I looked down at my feet and rubbed my cast with my unbroken hand.

It’s funny, well more ironic, I thought that Jay had only sprained my wrist but the asshole actually broke it. I guess it didn’t hurt as bad as I thought it would to crush my bones…

“Let’s just… I’ll send Niall and Harry to the store.” Zayn decided. I heard Eleanor’s cute giggle so I immediately looked up at her.

“Sorry, it’s just… can you imagine the two of them grocery shopping?” Eleanor’s giggles lit up the room as a smile crossed Zayn’s features at the thought. I could see Louis picturing it and suddenly he broke out in laughter, too.

I watched the three of them in amusement, but I only let myself show a small smile.

It was pretty ridiculous to imagine the two feared gang members picking out produce.

“How about I call Niall and he’ll bring some men and I’ll take El with us?” Louis suggested as his laughter calmed. A smile was still etched on his face and his eyes crinkled at the corners as he and Eleanor kept exchanging glances. The thought was still fresh in their minds and they couldn’t get over the amusement.

Zayn agreed to the idea and within twenty minutes they were gone, leaving me alone with Zayn.

I perched myself on the couch and began flipping through the channels, no particular show in mind. Zayn came over and sat with me, leaving about a foot of breathing room between us.

“Can you pick a show, this flipping around is pissing me off.” Zayn groaned after a few minutes of watching me move rapidly through the channels.

“If this annoys you then leave the room. I was here first.” I retorted, refusing to look at him as I continued to flip around. When I didn’t hear a response, I let myself glance at his being in the corner of my eye.

He was… smiling?

I let my head snap in his direction as his white teeth were on display. He shook his head at me, but I couldn’t ignore the sad and faraway look that was in his eyes.

“What the fuck are you grinning about?” I snapped at him. What was so funny to him?

“Nothing.” He continued to shake his head as he looked away from me. Weirdo.

But why did he look so sad if he was smiling?

It was three days later when I figured out exactly what was making him so sad.

The house was empty, again, except for me and Zayn. I was sat at the kitchen table fiddling with my cast.

“What are you doing?” He asked me as he watched me from the doorway.

“My arm is itchy and I can’t fucking scratch because of this fucking cast.” I replied as I shoved the edge of the spatula up the edge of the cast. I let out a satisfied moan as I hit the right spot. Zayn let out a disgusted grunt.

“God, we cook with that. You know what? Just throw it out when you’re done.” He shook his head as he sat down across from me.

I tossed the spatula in the trash, missing the bin, but leaving the cooking utensil on the floor anyways.

“What’s up?” I asked him in a much better mood after my itchy arm had been taken care of.

“Nothing’s up. Why would something be up?” I looked at him suspiciously as soon as he opened his mouth. I was just being chipper before, but now something was definitely up.

“I was just being polite… Are you ok?” I asked him softly. I didn’t want to push him too hard, knowing that his anger isn’t a pretty thing. He hasn’t hurt me… In fact, he’s been controlling himself very well ever since… he saved me, but I still wasn’t too sure about how much longer he could control himself for.

“I’m not, actually. There’s something I really need to talk to you about.” Uh-oh. I started panicking, immediately trying to think of what I’ve done wrong.

A lot.

I’ve fucked up a lot.

I didn’t respond as I waited for him to expand on it. I didn’t want to make whatever I did worse by interrupting him, so I sat silently.

“We need to go over what happened to you. I know that it’s my fault, I know that it was horrible and you shouldn’t ever have to relive that. But I need you to get it all off of your chest so you can get better.”

“I am better. Besides this fucking cast, I- I don’t hurt anymore.” I told him in confusion. I mean, sure I had scars, but there was no fresh blood, no open cuts, no sore bruises. Just this crippling cast.

“I’m not talking physically, Darlin’. I know that man did things to you. I can see it. Every time I caress you, or kiss you, or god forbid put my hand anywhere below your waist and above your knees I can see you panicking internally. I know what he did.” Zayn said lowly. He spoke through his teeth, the subject matter making him visibly uncomfortable.

Wait, he knew? He knew that I let another man touch me? That I let another man control me? Let another man put himself… inside me? Didn’t he want to kill me? Didn’t he want to stab me to death? Didn’t he feel angry at me that I let it all happen?

“I’m sorry.” I whispered, knowing it wouldn’t make up for anything.

“Don’t you dare say that. I don’t ever want to hear those fucking words come from your mouth ever again, do you understand? YOU have NOTHING to be sorry for.” He snapped, his voice rising a few levels in volume as he leaned forward in his chair to get in my face and emphasize his point.

I nodded quickly, not sure how else to respond.

“I need you to tell me why you’re so scared all the time. I know he hurt you, but I want you to know that I’d never hurt you and I won’t ever let anyone hurt you again.” He told me, his hand reached across the table for me, but I couldn’t help but instinctively shrink back.

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” I whispered, “he beat me, he touched me, he raped me. He broke my hand, he threw me down stairs, he kicked and punched and slapped and I wanted to just die. The only reason I willed myself to survive was so that you would come and rescue me. I needed you to hold me again.”

“Please don’t say that.” He moaned. I started to worry about what I did wrong. Did he not want to know about the abuse? I thought-

“Please don’t tell me that you need me. Please.” He begged me, sadness filling his beautiful hazel eyes.

“But, I do. I need you.” I assured him. I couldn’t be without him. I don’t even know why because I used to hate his guts. I used to want to stab him in his sleep so I could run away. But I could no longer go to sleep without him lying beside me.

And I knew that somehow, for some reason, he needed me too.

“You can’t need me. You have to be able to be independent and take care of yourself.” He urged me. I could see something was tearing him apart internally. And I couldn’t help but feel a sense of discomfort.

What was going on??

“Wh-why?”

“Because you can’t be with me anymore. I-I can’t have you here anymore. I need you to leave. To go back to America, as far away from me as you can get and just- just go on with your life as if I never fucked it up.” His husky voice came out in a broken whisper and the tough Zayn Malik had to hold back tears.

But I didn’t.

I started to cry like a baby, something I had been doing a lot lately.

“I can’t leave. You can’t make me! I won’t go willingly!” I screeched as I pushed myself away from the table. He stood too and reached over to me but I slapped his hand away.

“Darlin’, I don’t care if it’s willingly or not but you’re going to leave. You’re going to leave because I promised I’d never let you get hurt and I know that if you stick with me something bad will happen- again. So you’re going to go back to your family and I’ll leave you alone. Forever.”

“No. I won’t go.” I sniffled out through sobs.

“I’ve been thinking about this for a while. I can’t have you get hurt again, so you need to leave. End of discussion.” He said as sternly as he could. His eyes completely gave away the true sadness and misery he was feeling as he took in my depressed posture.

“Don’t do this please.” I whispered.

“I have to. I love you, but we're over.”

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