The Prince [Zayn Malik]

The Fight

I couldn't help but feel self-conscious as we ate a late dinner. Can you really tell that I've put on weight? I didn't realize it until he commented on it. How did he even notice? It can't be anything too dramatic, because I've only been with my aunt and uncle for four days. I don't feel any heavier. I can see a slight difference in the mirror, though. My ribs don't poke out as much as they did before. That's the only change I see.

"Are you alright?" Zayn asked.

"Uhm, yeah." I said, realizing I had just been staring at the plate in front of me instead of eating.

"Are you not hungry?" He questioned.

"Well, uh, not terribly." I lied.

He raised an eyebrow at me. "Is this about what I said earlier?"

"No," I shook my head, "I'm just not hungry."

"You're a horrible liar." He informed me. "I didn't mean what I said in a bad way. You didn't look healthy whenever you lived in the Palace. You were tiny. You're finally starting to put on weight, and you look great. It wasn't an insult, honestly."

"I'm sorry, but I can't take 'you look like you gained weight' as a compliment." I shrugged, looking down at my hands.

"Are you saying that you think you're fat?" He asked.

"Well, I didn't until you decided to comment on my weight." I answered truthfully.

He sighed. "Do you think I'm fat?" He asked.

I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion. He wasn't the least bit overweight. His height and weight are perfect for each other. "No, but what does that have to do with me?" I asked.

"I weigh one hundred and fifty pounds. How much do you weigh? One hundred and ten? If you don't think I'm fat, then you shouldn't think that you are." He questioned.

"That's different, though. You're like half a foot taller than me. You have muscle, and I don't. It doesn't work like that." I shook my head.

"Oh my gosh." He sighed in frustration. "Why are you so difficult?"

"What time is it?" I asked, deciding to change the subject completely.

He glanced down at his watch. "Eight. Why?" He inquired.

"I'm gonna take a shower. I'm tired." I said quietly before getting up from my seat at the table.

"I didn't mean to upset you." I heard him stand up when I was halfway to the door. "Drew! Can we talk?"

*Zayn*

"Damn it." I muttered once she was gone. Without thinking, I picked up one of the wooden chairs and threw it at the wall. I was angry. I just wanted to break everything. I can't believe I made her think she's anything except perfect. I'm such a fucking idiot. Why can't I do anything right?

"Zayn, mate, what's wrong?" Harry came into the room. I didn't realize I was crying until then. I quickly wiped my eyes and shook my head.

"Nothing." I lied.

"You're lying. You don't cry over nothing. Tell me what's wrong." He demanded.

"Drew." I sighed. "I wasn't thinking. I fucked up so bad, Harry. Now she hates me. I know it. Why wouldn't she? She probably already hated me before this, but now she hates me more. I would hate me too. I'm such a damn idiot!"

"Calm down, mate. Sit down. Tell me what happened." He ordered. I sat down at the table and held my head in my hands. I heard Harry sit in Drew's spot, across from me. "What happened?"