One More Spoon of Cough Syrup [Zayn Malik FanFiction]

Chapter 25

"Been this way since eighteen but lately, her face seems slowly sinking, wasting." - 'The A Team' by Ed Sheeran.

"Guys, leave us alone, please?" I said in a firm voice; I didn't mean it as a question. Niall looked at me, causing my heart to drop at the fresh concern on his face. I knew Niall and Zayn's relationship, and I understood how traumatic Niall must be feeling. However, they nodded and left, leaving me to face Zayn alone.

It was insane. Not only was his bed messed up, but the rest of them were too - including the unused sixth one. The pillows were scattered on the floor and the mattresses were pulled halfway out of the actual bed.

Zayn himself was on his own bed, tugging the quilt out from its cover. "What are you doing?" I asked in a strong voice, pulling at his arm.

He yanked it out of his grip and slammed the duvet on the bed, frustrated. "What are you doing?" I asked, louder.

"It's here somewhere, I know it is!" Zayn cried in desperation, jumping off the bed; he resumed taking out the contents from under his bed. His hair was wet, tousled, uncombed - definitely not normal - and he was wearing a pair of grey tracksuit bottoms.

"What is?" I raised my voice, taking a few steps back. I felt slightly intimidated.

"THE FAG!" Zayn shrieked, spitting.

"Whoa, Jesus Christ," I muttered, stepping back.

"Where did you get a cigarette from?"

He didn't answer.

"Tell me where you got it!" I demanded, tugging at his arm and spinning him around, keeping my grip tight. I wasn't going to let him throw everything away for a smoke.

He seemed stunned for a split second, but his alter-ego took over once more. "At the club," he answered. His eyes were the innocent Zayn Malik, the one who wanted to get away from the cutting, the smoking, the drinking. His body language, voice tone...this was all new to me. I had never met the Zayn Malik that sat before me. "When we went, I was offered them -"

"You told me you didn't smoke then!" I growled.

"I DIDN'T!" He roared, somehow mustering the strength to pull his arm free. "I fucking didn't but I took one! And now I can't find it!"

In frustration, he punched the wall. This was the violence I was taught about, but in this desperate situation, my mind was blank. I felt like a hopeless child; I didn't know what to do, who to call, what to say. 

"Zayn, please," my voice steady. "You've worked so hard, what about what you said two days ago -"

"I DON'T CARE!" He screamed, slamming his fists against the wall. "I'VE HAD ENOUGH, I'VE BEEN THROUGH ENOUGH, I WANT IT TO END, I DON'T CARE ANYMORE!" He sounded as though his throat might tear from the raw emotion he was yelling at me - but he didn't seem to care. He shrunk down into the smallest ball possible, contracting into the corner still facing away.

Holy crap, he's going insane.

But I don't give up.

"Zayn, if you stop...it's all for nothing," I said, calmer. I knew now, that shouting would get me nowhere. "Remember...I know how you feel, about them..."

"NO YOU DON'T!" Zayn yelled. "YOU - STANDING THERE - YOU..."

"WHAT?" I roared. Screw calmness. "I - WHAT? WHY DID YOU TELL ME THEN? YOU SAID IT YOURSELF, I'M THE ONLY ONE WHO UNDERSTANDS YOU!" I knew that the lads could probably hear us, if they were still on the bus that is, but I didn't care. I just wanted Zayn to see sense. 

I grew worried at his silence; I waited, not sure what to do or to say. Then, slowly and hesitantly, he stood up and turned to my direction but didn't look at me. Instead, he fiddled with something in his hands with disbelief.

The cigarette.

Hatred filled my bones, loathing pumped thorugh my veins and repulsion was my oxygen. 

Well that was poetic.

"Zayn." my voice shrank down, defeated. "Are you out of your mind?"

"It helps," he whimpered.

"It's been over twenty days. You've been through all those symptoms, and for what? To just go back to what you've been trying to get away from?" I asked, rhetorically and strongly.

"No," he whispered. Then, he turned and slammed his fists on the wall, and keeping his arm above his head, framing it at a right angle, in a defeated manner.  Yet I could tell he was still agitated.

"Zayn, calm down," I urged. "You don't think your family's mad? Sitting up at home, feeling depressed? You don't think I'm mad?"

"This isn't about you, though, is it?" Zayn cried. 

"Zayn, Zayn chill," I pleaded. "I know you're hurt - but life can be a hurtful thing. It bruises and scars, but you need to find a way to heal them."

"And this is my way!"

"No. No, it's not," I said, calmly. "This isn't you Zayn. This is someone else. Someone who has nothing left - you got a family, you got a career, you got  Liam, Louis, Harry...and Niall." 

The last part effected him - I could sense him shuffle uncomfortably at the mention of Niall's name.

"Look, I don't want your approval anymore -" 

"Come on, Zayn -"

"No!" He protested. "I'm done." He turned and this time looked directly at me in the eye for a second. I noticed the blue lighter in his hands. His body language was confident, as though making a statement that he'd runaway for one smoke.

"Zayn," I said, louder.

"No more begging, Saniya," he snarled. "It's pathetic."

This triggered me. I wasn't pathetic and I wasn't weak. "I stopped the dreams, Zayn," I raised my voice. "I stopped the dreams - YOU OWE ME!"

He looked at me, fury burning. "Now give me the fag, Zayn." Nothing. "Give me the fag. I stopped the dreams - I WANT THE CIGARETTE!"

He glared at me, and then - tears leaked through his eyes. My Zayn was still there, but his body still didn't show it. He maintained his fury and walked slowly up to me, standing a foot away.

Then, he dropped the cigarette and the lighter at my feet and left.

I heard him scrape a chair out in the kitchen and footsteps - the boys. They didn't say anything, but instead stood there. I didn't turn to face them; I couldn't. It felt as though an anvil had dug deep inside my stomach and I just wanted to puke it out. 

I felt pressure on my shoulder. "Thank you," Harry murmured, sincerely.

I took his hand and dropped it off my shoulder. "Leave me alone," I muttered, bitterly.

I didn't wait to see if they left. I tilted my head back and closed my eyes, wishing that this was all a dream, but knowing fully well that it wasn't.

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Aw, emotional ending :(

Shorter than most of my other chapters but hopefully the content makes up for it :S

And, er...HOW DID THIS FANFIC GET OVER 5,000 READS SINCE I LAST UPDATED?? You people - are epic. 'Tis official and any argument is invalid :)

Oh yeah, and thanks to @lizrox13 for posting the link for this fanfic on her wall :)

I might be able to get Chapter 26 up tonight...can I get like 10 comments on this one?

Comment Vote and Fan!!!

K bye :S