chapter eight

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Hate me. Do it and do it again. Waste me. Rape me, my friend.

Harry shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Maybe it was because he was in a car with total stranger; maybe it was because of the dark lyrics blaring through the speakers; who knew? But Harry was just hoping the ten minute ride home would go quick in his head. He already didn't enjoy being around newcomers and despite being sweet and genuine, Zayn didn't slide.

Zayn was just focusing on the road, sometimes tapping the steering wheel with his thumbs, joining the beat to the music. Though sometimes, his eyes would slip, over to boy, with his hand in his lap. His long thick legs fitted into those tight, tight jeans . . .

"Make a left here?" Zayn asked, pointed over, to the road, that had a convience store by the corner.

Harry seemed a bit startled, raising his head from his lap. He let out a quiet "yeah," as Zayn nodded taking the corner, a wave of silence floating between them.

"Make small talk, be polite," the voice in his head nagged. Oddly, it sounded a lot like his mother. Swallowing a big gulp, Harry decided to speak.

"You know the kid that went missing? He was suppose to meet someone at that store." Great conversation starter, Harry.

Zayn was quiet for a moment, and Harry just wanted to smack himself across the face.

Oh course he's not going to respond to that. What normal person would? What's even a response to that? You stupid idiot.

"Oh yeah?" Zayn asked, a brow being raised from his thick shades. Again, Harry seemed surprised the man had answered. Okay, small talk. Continue.

"Yeah, his name is Niall. He goes to my school." Harry didn't even notice himself using present speech. He was an optimistic when it came to that sort of thing. He didn't like thinking about horror or death. There is always a good thing that happens in the end.

"Hm," was all of Zayn's response, as another coating of silence came through, the music blaring. Harry began to squirm as Kurt Cobain, began continuously screaming the lyric,

"Rape me. Rape me. Rape me. Rape me. Rape Me. Rape me . . ."

"Sorry," Zayn apologised, observing Harry's uneasiness. "I just really like this song."

Harry only nodded as the dreadful song ended, now playing Prince. He couldn't imagine anyone enjoying a song about something so twisted. But then again he's a sixteen year old boy who's gets laughed at for listening to Malibu on repeat. Who was he to judge?

"And, here we are," Zayn muttered under breath, as he parallel parked next to Harry's house.

It was similar to all the others in his neighbor, with a white outline, and a long row of steps to walk up. It was always a dread to walk up those steps, especially over how clumsy Harry was, making him trip and fall. Repeatedly.

"Thank you for the ride," Harry thanked, as he unbuckled his seatbelt and grabbing the black bookbag that placed inbetween his legs.

"Don't mention it kid," Zayn quickly stated. "Hey Harry?" he said, right before the curly haired boy grabbed the handle of the door.

"Yeah?"

"If you need any more favours, just let me know, alright?"

Like usually, Harry was taken aback by the dyed haired man's words. Why was he so nice? Harry wasn't use to people, beside relatives being so sweet to him. Apart from Louis, but even he made sly jokes and sometimes made Harry feel bad about himself. But that was typical in friendships, right?

"Thank you, Zayn"

"You have a good day, Harry."

Zayn watched as Harry walked up the steps to his house, staying there for a moment, as he saw the green eyed boy go safely inside. Why was going on with him? Why was it always them? The sweet ones . . . the innocent ones . .. the pure ones-

He's so cute.

Shut up.

Did you see the way those hips swayed?

I said shut up.

And those lips. Those luscious pink lips. Imagine them around your thick-

"Shut the fuck up!" Zayn screamed, beating on his steering wheel, before sinking his head into his knees, digging his hands into his hair. He hated that voice. It ate him alive. It brought out the worse in him, but it was the things he wanted. Or at least that was what the voice had told him.

You want him Zayn.

Take him.

"I can't," he muttered out loud to himself, though no one could hear.

Why not?

"Because of you, I already got myself in enough shit."

Everything you did Zayn, you wanted to do. I just merely helped you out, you should be thanking me. Without me, you wouldn't be happy. You're only happy when you're around them. Is it or is it not true?

"It's true."

See? I know what's best for Zayn. I know what you fucking need and you need to just follow my lead.

"Okay."

Good. Now, hurry up and drop the food off, so we can go home and play.

With a large grin now appearing on his face, Zayn pulled out of his spot and bean driving off.    


this is a quick, unedited chapter, but harry is going to get kidnapped soon, so it works out. 

also, i don't know if some of you saw or not, but i had gotten zayn's name tattooed awhile back on my finger and i am in love.

questions, comments, concerns? let me know xo

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