💎 Z A Y N 💎

21

'There's nothing holding back' - Shawn Mendes

Unedited

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Zayn's head was slammed painfully on the ground. The culprit - or culprits - pulled his arms behind him, almost yanking them out of his sockets. They kneeled on his back, his chest squeezing against the pavement, constricting his breathing. Zayn's head vibrated with pain, so much that he forgot he could barely breathe. He gave himself a few seconds to regain his senses, then begun struggling. He wasn't going down without trying. He slowly begun bending his knees, trying to get into a position of prostration to try and relieve some of the pain, to try get some control. His second attacker wouldn't have it though and begun kicking at his legs, hard.

"Okay, okay. You got me," Zayn wheezed, gulping in air like he was dying of thirst.

His attacker, or muggers or whatever they were, laughed at him.

"We know that," one spat out in between laughs.

Zayn took advantage of their slight distraction, and moved himself so now mid knees were in between the ground and his front. He also managed to free one hand and hid it in front of him, so they couldn't yank it again.

Zayn's patience wavered.

"What the fuck do you want, fucking cunts." he growled.

The laughter stopped, and now Zayn could hear urgent whispers being exchanged. It sounded like there were three of them, but one was slightly off to the side.

"So you don't remember us from the bus?" the one who had been kicking his legs said.

Shit. He'd totally forgotten he had angered those roadmen. He had been walking on no-mans land though, so he didn't see the problem.

"Maybe we need to remind him. At least this time there's no where for him to chicken off too," sneered the one above him, making the others laugh.

Something seemed off. Roadmen don't stay to chit chat. They stabbed their opps and then legged it. I'm fact Zayn didn't even think they had their shanks today.

An idea popped off in his head,

"I knew we would cross paths again. I was actually going to fight for your folks," Zayn informed, this time reigning in his frustration.

Again urgent whispers were exchanged. Zayn prayed for them to hurry the fuck up; his arm was cramping now and his head was still spinning slightly.

"Fibbing ain't gon get you outta dis, cuz," spat the one who was slightly away.

For fucks sake.

"I'm not lying. In fact, why don't you take me there? Better than going round and asking, which is what I was essentially coming to do," Zayn reasoned.

The bloody whispering again. Zayn tried to focus on it but his head was still pounding. He needed to get up.

He was suddenly yanked up by his hood by the one who was kneeling on him. Zayn raised his head to see the third one was standing with a large knife to one side. Of course, they never leave their homes without their precious weapons. They were probably going to take their sweet time to inflict pain on him.