It Started With A Drunk Kiss (Zayn Malik Fan Fiction) [EDITING] COMPLETED

Chapter 35 - Support

On Saturday morning I woke up screaming. I was panting heavily, my heart was beating fast and sweat trickled down my forehead. I hate nightmares.

 I had a dream that it was last night and I was running, searching for Zayn. I was clutching the red rose in my hand and the piercing of the thorns was more noticeable in my dream than it was in real life. When I ran along the creek  that lead towards the bridge, I saw from a distance the back of Zayn’s figure on top of the bridge leaning against the ledge. I screamed his name, I called out, but he didn’t hear me. The faster I ran the further away the bridge went. Whilst I was still running I saw Zayn check the watch on his wrist, then he made his way off the bridge, walking away and increasing the gap between him and I.

“ZAYN! DON’T LEAVE!” I yelled out, but he didn’t even turn around. I tripped over a branch on the ground which wasn’t there before and I felt strong arms lift me to my feet. As I looked up expecting Zayn’s brown eyes and big eyelashes staring at me, I saw Josh’s face bruised, with blood trickling down his chin. In his left hand was a white translucent plastic bag with something in it. I looked more closely at it and realised it was a still, lifeless, premature baby. My baby.

 I screamed, my dream ended, and I woke up still screaming.

I sat up trying to control my breathing and trying to keep the tears away. It’s just a dream, it’s just a dream, I told myself. I heard the door slam in the other side of the apartment and a pair of feet rush from there to here. As the door swung open I saw Zayn in a white, red and blue plaid shirt and white chinos.

“WHAT’S GOING ON?” He yelled when the door slammed against the door stop.

“Zayn what are you doing here?” I panted breathlessly.

“I was making you breakfast. Now why on earth are you screaming? Did you have a nightmare?” He stated. I nodded and gulped a sob that was about to break free. Zayn took off his shoes and got under my covers. He hung his arm around my shoulders and calmed me down. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

I shook my head, wiping the tears that escaped my eyes.

“Come on Hope. You can’t keep something like this to yourself, this isn’t going to help with your –“

“Okay. Just. Let me clean myself up.” I squeaked, tears still streaming down my face.

I forced myself out of bed and went straight to the bathroom. Zayn got up and walked to the kitchen. My chocolate hair stuck upwards and clung to my sweaty forehead. I washed my face with a wet cloth and tied my hair up in a bun. I brushed my teeth and made my way to the kitchen where I smelled pancakes.

The table was set up with a baby pink table cloth with a vase of red tulips in the middle. On either side of the table were 2 plates piled up with pancakes. Around the vase of tulips were sprinkles, ice cream, Nutella, whipped cream, strawberries, bananas and everything else you can imagine to put on pancakes.

“Oh my god. Did you do all of this?” I asked him who was by the stove in a female, flowery, pink apron cooking more pancakes.

“Yes! Just for you,” He smiled.

I tried to smile back, but I can imagine it came out as a hideous grin because I was still recovering from the nightmare and the fact that Zayn was wearing my Mother’s apron.

I took a seat and started on the pancakes. I wasn’t hungry, I felt more like throwing up, but if I really wanted to get back on track I can’t starve myself without feeling hungry and besides, Zayn put so much effort into it all.

He came over and plopped some more pancakes on his plate. I scrutinized his portion of food compared to mine, and his body size.

“Are you sure you’re gonna eat that all?” I said hoping he would’ve forgotten about my nightmare.