Twenty-Three

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Chapter Twenty-Three

☠ Chapter Twenty-Three ☠

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ZAYN'S POV

I wake up in a sweat, immediately going to move my arm, but I can't feel it. When I look to my right, Arielle is laying comfortably on top of it. I squeeze my hand into a fist in an attempt to stretch the muscles, pins and needles tingling at my fingertips.

Arielle's tucked into my side just the same as when she first curled up here. The warmth is radiating off her small body onto mine, which has caused the temperature of my skin to warm. Her brown hair is pulled up messily and as my eyes trail down her body, I notice she's barely covered by my shirt, spotting the faintest sight of the bare skin on her ass.

My mouth is parched and I can still feel the liquor in my bloodstream. I reckon I might be a little drunk, but it's not nearly as strong as it was earlier. Wriggling my arm free from underneath her body, she stirs a little in her sleep, but she doesn't wake. I sit up and look at the clock—we've only been asleep for maybe two hours.

I walk across the room, making it about halfway across before I stop dead in my tracks. My neck cranes itself towards the wall to my right—the wall which the small green armchair usually rests up against. The chair is still pulled in the centre of the room, exactly where I left it.

I'm tempted to grab an eraser and clear the entire wall. She should have her own wall where she can write whatever the fuck she wants on it. I wouldn't care if she wrote a single word on the entire surface, it'd be her wall, and her wall alone.

Sauntering towards the kitchen, I grab a wad of paper towel and head straight towards the bedroom to recklessly wipe away at the chalk drawings that have littered the drywall for so long. Some of these comic book characters have been on here since I moved in.

It takes a lot of work to erase everything that's ever been drawn on the wall. I'm sure the wall looks like a mess now, but all that's left on it is the one quote she's written. Now she'll be able to draw or write whatever she wants on it.

When I'm satisfied with what I've done, I look back towards Arielle. She's silently sleeping, and so I walk over to her, taking the time to comfortably tuck the blanket around her small body.

Grabbing a cigarette and a lighter, I head for the balcony. As I walk past the living room area, I spot Sky sprawled out on the little pillow I'd bought for her. She snores lightly in her sleep and kicks her leg a little, but she doesn't seem to hear me as I pass her.

I step outside and the warm Miami air instantly envelops me. It's a beautiful evening—the moon is full in the sky—and as I light up my smoke, I admire the stars littered everywhere.

I'm having a bit of difficulty in remembering the earlier evening's activities. The alcohol is still latched onto me, fogging my memory slightly. I inhale slowly on the cigarette, and exhale, causing a white cloud in front of me.

Supersonic | Zayn Malik | AU |Where stories live. Discover now