Chapter 33

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A/N: *******BEGIN PLAYING THE SONG ON THE SIDE AT THE TRIPLE STAR, IT IS EXTREMELY IMPORTANT TO THE EXPERIENCE OF THE CHAPTER********

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                                                              ***Elena's P.O.V.***


   Well, in short, it had been exactly nine weeks since Zayn and I had gotten together. Nine blissful weeks full of sweet kisses, and long nights talking on the phone ,and wonderful dates where we never ceased to have something to tell the other person about ourselves.

    I’d never been one to put any belief into the fairytale idea that you found the person you love, then walked into the sunset holding hands, after an epic story about love and loss. Usually, I rolled my eyes at romantic movies, because I knew for a fact that real life doesn’t end like that; You lose people, and it hurts, and you have move on. To quote John Green, ‘The world isn’t a wish granting factory’.

    But with Zayn, something was different. Although I supposed that’s how most people felt when they were in love.

    Yes, that’s right, I used the ‘L’ word. It had hit me like a ton of bricks when I realized just how much I loved him.

    Love scared me. Love scared everybody, deep down. But when you’re truly in love, it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter how scared you are, or how worried you might be, because you have to keep going.  You have to keep giving them more and more of yourself until you’re molded into one person.

    And so, as the story of ‘Zelena’ as the boys called it, continued, I fell deeper and deeper in love with Zayn. I never told him verbally, but I could tell he knew it. I became dependant on the sound of his voice, and feel of his lips against mine, and the thought of not having him by my side soon became my biggest nightmare. But of course, like the love struck woman I had turned into, I kept going.

    All of this tumbled around my head as I drove towards downtown Duluth. Zayn had called me, and asked if I’d wanted to get some lunch, which I of course agreed to.

    I wasn’t quite sure what would become of us when he had to return to England, but I honestly didn’t care at the time. I was going to enjoy my time with him, limited as it may be.

    But deep down I knew we could make it through everything, and we might’ve had to. Luckily, though, for the time being, things were calm. Until I reached the cafe.

    I drove down the semi-busy street, parking under the minimal shade of a small tree, in a place where it would be easy to quickly zoom away, if, for some reason, one of the boys was to jump out from behind a bush with silly string, per say. Oh yes, I had also grown to know them more and more, and that would not surprise me.

    After unbuckling the seat belt, I jumped out of the car, slamming the door shut. I knew the place Zayn said to meet at; About a block to my left, and across the street.

    My heart still fluttering from just the thought of the black haired boy, I walked out from behind my car, wearing the usual outfit of frayed jeans shorts, a striped tank top with buttons, and purple converse.

    I began walking towards where the small restaurant was located, however not looking up from my shoes, as the sun would be shining directly in my eyes.

    While I watched the scuffed up purple shoes slap against the black road, staying close to the cars, but not crossing the street, I thought about Zayn, and how I loved him.

    That moment, something inside of me decided that I would tell him. I didn’t know why there, I didn’t know why then, I just knew that it was necessary.

    With the confidence that filled me whenever I thought about Zayn being with me through everything, I began to cross the street about half a block down, after briefly checking either side for cars. When I saw none in sight, I started jogging, while turning my face upright. However, my eyes caught sight of Zayn causing me to immediately freeze in the middle of the road.

    He was kissing another girl.

    ***Everything around me seemed to freeze. Time went slower, a second felt like a year.

    My heart stopped before beating again frantically, the dull thump sounding in my ears, blocking out the sounds of the city.

    It was difficult to see Zayn as he broke away from the girl and his head snapped towards me, because of the tears now filling my lashes, threatening to spill.

    I didn’t have enough time to see his indescribable expression before I whipped around, the salty droplets streaming down my cheeks. The boys were standing behind me, staring open mouthed at the scene I had turned my back on.

    They saw me. They saw my expression. They gave me sympathetic glances.

    I ran.

    With all of the strength I could pull together, I ran away from Zayn, from the boys, from everyone, feeling the world start to crash and crumble around me.

    I ran away from my past. I ran away from my love. I ran away from the best thing I had. I ran.

    The jello-like feeling in my calves was ignored, as I kept pushing and pushing myself in the direction of my car, like if I ran fast enough, I would be able to go back in time to five minutes earlier, when everything was perfect. When I still had him.

    I don’t remember jumping in my car, and slamming the door shut. I don’t remember mindlessly pulling out and driving away, not caring about my own safety. I don’t remember the yells and shouts thrown after me. I only remember the pain.

    The feeling was like a thousand bricks being thrown at my chest all at once, causing my ribs to snap and implode. It was like oxygen wasn’t allowed to enter my body, and I was deprived of air. It felt like... like...

    When I reached my apartment after driving there on autopilot, trying desperately to somehow turn off my emotions, I ran in.

    I didn’t even bother closing the front door as I stormed in and up to my bedroom. My mother was gone, away on business; Everyone was gone.

    The pictures covering the memory bulletin board I had made, disgusted me. The smiling faces of my friends, of my... my Zayn...

    Suddenly, rage took over my body.

    I ran forward, ripping the pictures violently off the wall, disregarding the pins sticking them in.

    I tore in half the face of Harry.

    I tore in half the face of Niall.

    I tore in half the face of Liam.

    I tore in half the face of Louis.

    I slumped the the ground, sobbing uncontrollably, in a heaping mess of tears and brokenness.

    In my hand, I looked at a polaroid picture of Zayn and I. Smiles were stretched across our faces, cheeks pressed together, happiness glimmering in our eyes.

    It didn’t feel real. It didn’t feel like I had just found the man I loved in the arms of another girl.

    Anger flaring inside my chest, I tore the image to shreds, feeling the weight of the world crushing me into the ground.

    With a staggering step, I stood up and grabbed a random piece of paper around me, which turned out to be another picture of Zayn and I, together on the beach.

    In black pen I scribbled a note on the back of the picture for Zayn, even though the voice in my head was shouting, ‘He’s not going to come looking for you! He doesn’t care about you! He’s gone! He might as well be dead, just like your dad!’

    I left it on the floor, on top of the pile strewn around the floor, of torn pictures.

    I knew that it shouldn’t hurt as much as it did.

    I knew that my reaction was dramatic.

    But I couldn’t control it; I had lost him.

    I had lost Zayn.

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A/N: ***********THIS IS NOT THE END, I REPEAT, THIS IS NOT THE LAST CHAPTER!!!************

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