N I N E

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CHAPTER 9

CLAIRE

There are moments.

Moments where the sheer reality takes your breath away. Knocks it out of your chest and leaves you with absolutely nothing, but pain. Time is made still, and you feel yourself crumbling in a matter of seconds. From the tip of your toes, to the top of the head, you freeze.

And when the door opens and Zayn enters with furious eyes, I realize; this is one of those moments.

I try to look past him--maybe Harry is in the living room and running towards me! But no. Harry is not here. He's not here.

"Claire, I don't see a bedroom, just come out to the living room." I hear Harry whisper from the phone, even though it slipped through my fingers and hit the mattress.

Zayn's eyes terrifies me to my very core, as they move down to the phone. He looks back up to me, and his expression hardens as he moves slowly towards the bed.

"Claire?" I faintly hear Harry's voice.

"Hang up," he says with a low voice, pointing to the phone. I freeze for a second, as Harry's voice becomes panicked.

"HANG UP!" He shouts, veins popping out of his throat, his face getting red. I jump and I find the phone, but... I'm not ready to give up this chance to talk to Harry. This... is probably the last time I'll ever talk to him.

"I love you Harry, I always will." I breathe into the phone, and I hang up. Once I press the button, Zayn's flat palm slaps me across the face.

I am knocked down to the mattress, my cheek sore, as I cover it with my palm. My heartbeat speeds, as fear consumes me.

I feel his forceful hands grab a hold of my waist, lifting me up from the bed and throwing me down onto the ground. My head hits the hard wooden floor, and my vision blurs as I try to push myself off the ground.

"What the hell did you do?!" His strained voice thunders, and I find my balance again. He grabs the phone off the mattress, and hurls it to the ground. It dissolves in parts across the floor, and his glare remains. He moves quickly to me, wrapping his hand around my throat, lifting me up again.

"Why did you think he was here?!" He raises his voice right at me, spit hitting me in my eye.

"He said he was!" I whimper, still staring past him into the living room. I picture Harry standing there, with a smile on his face. But the image of him fades away when Zayn releases me, and I fall back on the floor. Zayn disappears, running out of the room. He comes back with his bag, looking at me.

"He has the adresses," he says before the widest smile I've witnessed creeps on his face. He starts laughing hysterically, almost falling to the floor.

"H-he... went to the wrong house!" he laughs, the shriek filling the room. His teeth show with the frenzied expression on his face. He calms after a minute, his face paling as he finds the ground again.

"Oh Claire, what do you see in that dumbass?" He questions with a hint of amusement, as his eyebrows raise. He kneels down to me, and starts stroking my hair.

"If he found the adresses, he will be here soon. Time to go, sweetness," he says and grabs ahold of me, putting his lips on mine. I put my hand on his neck, returning it. What? No!

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