invasato [h.s]

30

I'm okay.

I put my bikini on, bottoms first and then top. My hair stays down, in tighter waves than usual from my braids that I had before.

I go to grab my shorts to put on and pull up over my bathing suit bottoms, but right as I get the pair over my ankles...the door opens.

My eyes immediately widen and my body whips toward the now open door that I suppose I forgot to lock. Rookie move.

In the doorway, I see Zayn, who immediately widens his eyes as well in slight startle.

"Oh, shit. Sorry—"

He's got his bathing suit on—a dark red pair of swim shorts and a shirtless upper half, exposing all of his tattoos that covered his chest and arms.

I clear my throat and avert my eyes down, feeling extremely awkward even though I was covered by my bathing suit. "It's fine. I'm done in here if you—"

"Your hip."

The words make me freeze, I flick my eyes from the floor to my hip which was exposed...I hadn't put my shorts on yet. Zayn could see my wound out in the open.

My instinctual move was to cover it with my hand right away, as if it would make the wound itself disappear. With wide eyes, I meet Zayn's worried ones.

"Uhm—"

"El..." he trails off. "Are you okay?"

I clear my throat awkwardly and quickly pull my shorts up and button them, grabbing my leggings and shirt and preparing to walk out the bathroom door.

"I'm okay. I'll see you outside—"

He grabs my arm before I can make my getaway. I feel the tough warmth of his fingers wrap around my bicep, pulling me back in front of his view.

Hesitantly meeting his eyes, I see his furrowed brows.

"What happened?" he says...stern.

I breathe through my parted lips, for some reason feeling shame about my wound. I was also scared. I didn't know how he'd react.

"I promise it's nothing—"

"Bullshit." he shakes his head and then brings his hand to the waistband of my shorts. He then pulls down the side of my shorts that my injury was on, too quick for me to stop him. I breathe a frustrated exhale through my nose as I have no choice but to let him see it now.

His brows crease together as he gets a good look.

"Elaina," he mumbles before looking up at me so we had to meet eyes once again. "were you stabbed?"

I bite my trembling lip as I look into his dark colored eyes. I didn't know what to say.

"This is clearly a wound from a knife. It's deep too. What happened?" he mutters, his voice coated with nothing but seriousness.

I can't get out of this. I know Zayn, and I know that even if I leave this bathroom without giving him an explanation, he'll pry it out of me later.

Memories of that night flood into my brain as if it was a tsunami of pain. I remember how the knife felt—how cold the steel was as it contrasted with the heat of my blood. As long as this wound stays, I'll never forget the feeling.

"It happened on the day of the robbery..." my voice comes out quiet, my eyes looking down to my feet after I say it. "I was stabbed."

I said it with such shame...like it was my own fault.

I couldn't see Zayn's reaction because my vision was down to the floor, but his serious tone fell into a worried one.

"What?" his voice beckons me to elaborate.