One Direction Preferences Book 2

167. he finds out you've been raped.

Liam: With your hands tangled in Liam's hair and your hips pressed against his as he kept you captured against the wall, you lost yourself in the kiss. Literally. You began to forget everything - what your name was, what time it was, even where you were. Under other circumstances, this could have been the sign of a great kiss, but for you it was a siren going off in your head. "Liam," you mumbled, gasping as you pulled back from the kiss. "Hmm?" he replied as he attached his lips to the next available surface - your neck. "We have," you panted, from fear or from pleasure you couldn't tell. "We have to stop. Right now." Immediately Liam's lips were gone from your neck and his hands were holding your face steady so he could bore into your eyes with his. "[Y/N], are you okay? Did I hurt you? I need to know, I have to make it bet-" You pushed a finger to his lips, shaking your head. "No, baby, I just keep losing myself and I don't like it," you mumbled, trying to avoid his gaze. You could feel the tears building up in your eyes. You couldn't let him see them; you couldn't hurt the perfection that is Liam with your troubles. But he caught them anyway, and his gaze hardened. "This isn't about me, is it?" he stated more than asked. You shook your head, still refusing to speak. "Love, I need to know what's going on. It hurts me to see you cry and I need to know how you were broken in order to fix you, right? Remember? I will try to fix you," he sang. You nodded, a few tears falling. He reached up towards you to wipe them away, and as his hands left your face, your red eyes found his. "Last year, before I met you, I was out clubbing with some friends," you said, keeping your voice monotone so as not to delve into the feelings connected with your encounter. "I had a few too many drinks - which is something I love about you, by the way. You've helped me stay sober," you smiled, diverging. He offered you a small smile in return but stared still, waiting for your story. "Anyway, well, I was dancing with this man, and things were getting, um, intimate, and I told him no," you took a gulp of air. "And he didn't listen." You shrugged, averting your eyes. You felt Liam stiffen in anger. "Babe, look at me," he pleaded. "I'm sorry I wasn't there to save you. I wish I could have met you earlier in life. I wish I could have saved you." His tears were now mingling with yours as your foreheads fell together. "Liam, no," you murmured. "There wasn't anything you could have done, or I could have done, or probably anything anyone at the club could have done. He was a big man set on his prize, and he got it. But I'm okay now, really," you reassured him. "It's just certain situations - like the wall. Maybe wall kissing isn't for me anymore. I'm sor-" "Don't you dare apologize, sweetheart. There is absolutely nothing for you to be sorry for. I love you so much." There was silence as neither of you really knew what to say. Liam took a deep breath and forced a smile for you. "Let's get to bed, yeah? We can put on 16 Candles to fall asleep to. I know you love that movie." You gave him a small but genuine smile, mentally cheering. "I do love me some Molly Ringwald," you said, pecking him lightly on the cheek. "But I love you more. And thank you. You will always be my hero."

Zayn: "NO!" You woke up to the sound of your own scream. You couldn't tell what was your imagination and what was real in the room, but you felt the fear, and it was more real than ever. You threw your arms out blindly, trying to hit the hallucinated demons that flocked to your bedside. Your fist made contact with something - a body. Zayn's body. To you, it was the very body of the man who ruined you. With a smaller scream, you leapt away from the form, avoiding the arms that reached to wrap around your waist. "Don't touch me!" you sobbed, aching to just get away from him. "I don't want it," you cried, falling to the floor and curling around yourself. "I don't want it." You felt the footsteps through the floor boards before someone kneeled down in front of you. "Babygirl," the form whispered. "You're safe. It's Zayn, sweetheart, it's me." You shakily lifted one eyelid, glancing up quickly to see that it was indeed your boyfriend. The man and his doppelgangers had disappeared, but they left the uneasiness behind. "Zayn," you whimpered, unfurling your arms and reaching out to him similarly to how a child would to an adult. "[Y/N], what in the world is this about?" Zayn murmured into your hair as he lifted you from the floor. You shook your head as it fell against his chest, not yet ready to explain. He sighed and walked towards the rumpled bed, depositing you before laying down himself. "Love, what is going on? You have nightmares, sure, but you're never this upset." You took a shuddering breath. "Zayn, it's not important. It's part of my past and I do-" "[Y/N], if it's part of your past, it's part of you. And I want to know you. I want to know everything that you are, the good and the bad. But I can't do that if you don't talk to me, baby," he whispered, tucking your head under his chin and holding you tightly to his body. "Please don't be afraid to tell me. I will fight your battles for you - I will take care of you, but you have to let me." You felt him exhale deeply. "Okay," you whimpered. "Okay." You let your tears slow before you began your tale, knowing that you would need your wits about you. "Last year, while you were on tour with the boys, I walked home alone. Max was supposed to walk me home - I know, you made him promise you, but his mom was in the hospital and I wasn't going to make him walk three miles with me when he was needed there. So I started to walk home, and I heard these footsteps behind me, and I know you're never supposed to look because it edges them on but I couldn't help it and I looked and he grinned at me so I started walking faster but the footsteps got louder so I started to run but he caught me and-" you gasped, choking. "Shh, babygirl, shh. Please, calm down. You're okay," Zayn murmured, massaging open your hands that had clenched his shirt in a white-knuckled grip. "What happened?" he asked, almost reluctant to know the answer. "He had me," you whispered matter-of-factly. "He raped me." Zayn's entire body went stiff and grew warm simultaneously. His hands stilled in their path of soothing strokes down your back and you could hear his breathing increase in strength. You decided not to elaborate. "[Y/N]," Zayn muttered brokenly. "No, baby, tell me you're lying. Tell me this isn't true." You could feel his tears wetting your hair. You propped yourself up. "No, Zayn, don't cry. That's my job, remember? I'm so sorry, I didn't want to hurt you, that's why I never told you, but I'm okay now. I'm okay, I just...I get scared sometimes," you trailed off, not knowing how to comfort your love when you could barely hold yourself together.