The Model [Zarry]

Chapter 17.

Zayn gulped, his eyes locked on his dad's glazed over ones. This was bad, yet he knew this was coming. "Well? Where the fuck have you been?" he snarled, slamming a hand on the door next to Zayn's head. "Out." Zayn muttered, trying to get past his dad and up to his room but instead, he gripped Zayn's arm and slammed him back against the door, managing to bang Zayn's side against the doorhandle. Zayn grunted, pain seeping in his hip but kept calm and composed even though he was absolutly terrified.

"Be more specific." his dad grumbled. Zayn's jaw clenched. He really didn't want to have to do this. Not now. Not ever. "Doesn't matter." Zayn replied, looking down on the floor to avoid his father's stern gaze. "Doesn't matter?" he repeated, laughing harshly. "Oh that's just great, isn't it? Nothing matters to you. It doesn't matter that I put food on your plate, a roof over head- oh, no. You clearly don't care." Zayn's dad rambled on, pacing the length of the corridor, shaking his head in disbelief and pointing aimlessly at Zayn.

"It's mum that puts a roof over my head-" that did it. Zayn was about to leave, just as his dad's fist connected with the corner of Zayn's eye. Zayn stumbled backwards, managing to bang his head against the front door in the process. He winced, cluching the side of his eye in pain. This wouldn't look good for modelling, would it? He was doomed. Liam wouldn't be pleased.

"Mum's not here, is she?" he smirked, leaning close to Zayn again. "That'll leave a mark in the morning." he chuckled lowly, poking at Zayn's hand which he covered over his eye. "Leave now. Before I leave another mark." he warned and shakingly, Zayn scammered off up to his room, shutting his door quietly despite the fact he wanted to slam it shut.

In his room, he grabbed the first hard material he could find and slammed it against the basck of the door in frustration- it was only a tiny vase, nothing special. He looked at the shattered glass at the foot of his door, hoping that his dad would come storming up and step on it, but he didn't. With trembling hands, Zayn took out his phone and feebly attempted to scroll down the contact list.

He pressed the green button under Harry's name, pressing his phone against his ear and curled up in a ball on his bed. "Hey, Zayn. You're missing me already? It's only been like 10 minutes." Harry joked with a cheery chuckled. Zayn just whimpered, which took Harry off-guard. "Zayn? Are you all right?" he asked, worried. "F-fine. Can I just come round to yours?" he stuttered, biting his thumb nervously. Harry gulped, suddenly taken aback by this vulnerable Zayn. "Yeah, sure. Want me to pick you-"

"No!" Zayn immediatly shouted, not wanting Harry anywhere near his house. "Okay. It's only me and Louis in anyway." Harry said after a short pause. Zayn said a quiet good bye and hung up, heading for his leather jacket again before heading down stairs with his phone in his pocket. "Boy! Where do you think you're going?!" his dad yelled when Zayn made his way to the door. "None of your business, dick head." Zayn said impatiently and cut himself short and slowly turned round. His father had stood up, and was truding toward Zayn drunkingly.

"What did you just call me?" his dad snarled. "You heard. Now go for it." Zayn spat. There it was. A smack, right on the face. Well, it was more or less his mouth, since Zayn had moved his face to the front. Something churned in Zayn's stomach and slid aganist the door, falling down to the floor. He pressed a finger to his sore lip and could feel a hot, sticky liquid dripping from it. Great. He was bleeding now. Zayn stared up to his dad, panicking. "That's what you get for calling me a dick head, you faggot." Zayn's eyes prickled at the words, and he looked down. That...that wasn't true, was it? He wasn't a faggot, was he? He wasn't even in a relationship with Harry, but...this is exactly why he didn't want to be in a relationship with a guy in the first place, he knew he'd turn out a mess because of his father.

Zayn stumbled to his feet and walked out the house without another word, without another look to his dad. He pulled his leather jacket round him to sheild him from the cold and ran to Harry and Louis' flat. When he reached the flat, he hesitated at first in chapping the door, but then did it three times anyway. To his relief, it was Harry who answered the door and not Louis. He looked down on the ground when he met Harry's gaze. "Zayn, you're...you're bleeding." Harry gasped, his hands cupping Zayn's sore face which made Zayn look up into Harry's concerened green eyes.

Harry leaned in, touching Zayn's lips softly in hope that it would clear the blood away but Zayn had marely pulled away, his dad's words still ringing in his ears. That's when a tear rolled down Zayn's cheek and Harry instantly wiped it away with the pad of his thumb. "Come on." Harry sighed, lacing his fingers in Zayn's and pulling him inside from the cold. "What happened?" Harry murmed, sitting Zayn down next to him, who was shaking from head to foot.

"Nothing." Zayn mumbled back, dabbing at his cut lip which hadn't cleared up at all. "Nothing happened? So that's why you have a bruised face and busted lip-"

"Harry, just shut the fuck up, please." Zayn cut off impatiently, massing his temples with his fingers and squeezing his eyes shut. Harry looked down at Zayn's harsh words, when he heard footsteps approaching and looked back up again. "Wow! Dude, you got busted up pretty badly, are you okay?" Louis asked worridely. Harry shot him a look which silenced him. "Lou, can you just get an icepack from the freezer, please?" Harry asked desperatly. Louis nodded and headed into the kitchen.

"I don't need an ice pack." Zayn shot. "Zayn, you're hurt. Of course you do. What really happened? Was it your parents? Did they hurt you-"

"No! Stop bloody asking me questions that I don't want to answer! Stop caring when I wanted to be left alone!" Zayn fumed, standing up, his hands bawled into fists. Harry stared up Zayn, holding his stern gaze. "If you wanted to be left alone, then why did you come here?" Harry challened, when Louis had appeared in the doorway, to see what the shouting was about, an ice pack clutched in his hand.

Zayn shakingly shat down, his face buried in his hands. The truth was, Zayn just wanted to get out the house. Away from his dad. As far away from him as possible. He knew Harry was just trying to help, but he couldn't tell him about his dad. Never. Harry wrapped an arm around the older boy, pressing the ice pack to the side of his face. Zayn couldn't help but lean into Harry, pressing the side of his face against his chest. Louis cleared his throat, suddenly feeling slightly awkward. "You can go now, Lou." Harry smirked, in realization that his best friend was still standing there. "Thank you." Louis said quickly and hurried off his room. It wasn't that Louis was uncomfortable with Harry and Zayn were together, he just felt awkward standing there when he knew Zayn had troubles that he wanted to tell Harry that wasn't even Louis' business.

Sighing, Zayn sat back up and stared at his hands which he fiddled in his lap. "Can I...can I stay here tonight?" Zayn questioned, gazing up at Harry. "Sure." Harry whispered back, knowing it was best not to ask Zayn why when he was in a mood like this. "You can sleep in my room, yeah?" Harry smiled. "Actually I'll just take the couch." Zayn sniffed back. Harry frowned in confused. "I want to be alone." Zayn mumbled and Harry sighed. "Okay. I'd keep that ice pack on your face for another half hour or so, just to take the swelling down. I'll get you a blanket and a pillow." Harry said, handing Zayn the pice pack which he reluctantly pressed to his face as Harry rummaged through the bottom cabinet below the TV for a blanket and pillow and handed it to Zayn.

Once Zayn was under the blanket and Harry was in his pyjamas, Harry turned round to face Zayn. "You all right?" he asked quietly and Zayn nodded, although Harry knew he was still shaken from the previous event. Harry walked over to Zayn and leaned down, pressing his mouth to his. It was only small movements that Zayn made, but it was enough to let Harry know that he was okay...for now. It wasn't until all the lights were off, and Harry was asleep in bed, that Zayn had burst into tears.

Written by karmasucks