Maybe It Was A Song

Fifth

Zayn hops in his car and starts the engine before I can even get in. I feel myself sobering up as I realise I'm going to find myself in a hostile situation when I get in the car. Zayn looks at me through the front window, and impatiently raises an eyebrow at me, silently asking why I'm not in the car yet. I quickly walk to my door and open it, getting in and doing up my belt. "You're staying with me tonight." He tells me after a few second of silence, and I look over at him, furrowing my eyebrows. He can't just decree I'm staying with him. "Remember the rules" is all he says before pulling out of the car space and starting to drive. This is stupid and horrible, and basically kidnapping, and I cant even think straight because of what he made me drink. Without really thinking too much, I shake my head. "No" I tell him. Oh god, do I want to die? "What did you just say?" He asks, his tone almost daring me to repeat myself. I knew one of his rules was that I had to listen, but this is just absurd. "I said no. I have to work on the morning." I tell him, watching as he jaw clenched. I'm really in trouble now. His knuckles are white as he grips the steering wheel, before he slams on the breaks, apparently not caring that we are in the middle of the road. The streets are basically deserted anyway. He turns to me, and his eyes are so dark that the sight of them alone makes me whimper, and sink back in my chair, trying to distance myself from him. To my surprise, he seems to soften, ever so slightly as he sees how scared I am. He bites his lip before turning away from me. He runs his fingers through his hair, letting out a frustrated yell that booms through the car. "You are staying with me. Understood?" he asks in a growl, turning back to look at me again. I quickly nod, knowing that he could do anything he wants to me right now, and I couldn't stop him. But he looks to be trying to control himself; like he's fighting some kind of demon inside. He's trying to calm himself desperately, almost as if he doesn't want me to see him like this. He leans over the centre console and puts his hand on the back of my neck, pulling me towards him. I realise he lost the battle with whatever he was trying to fight and that he's going to smash my head against something, and I close my eyes tight in anticipation. I feel a soft pair of lips press gently against my forehead instead, and a broken boy whisper "good girl."

The rest of the ride to his house is silent, Zayn's heavy breathing the only sound in the car as he slowly clams down. I think he knows how bad he scares me. We eventually pull up outside a two storied house, and Zayn stops the car. He just sits there for a second before he gets out of the car and shuts the door behind him. I take that as my cue, and I undo my belt, opening my door and getting out too. I stumble a little bit as I stand, and Zayn's quickly next to me, wrapping his arm around my waist to offer me some support. Soft, gentle, threatening, dark Zayn. He starts to walk, but we don't go to the house, rather going to the side, and going down a path. He takes me to the back yard, where there's an outhouse towards the back of the section. He leads me over to it, and reaches above one of the lamps, and when his hand comes back, its clasping a silver key. He unlocks the door, pushing it open before putting the key back and releasing me from his grip. I step into the room and flick the light switch. There's a double bed, and a few paintings on the wall, and the room is really messy, clothes laying everywhere. At the other end of the room, there's a door, and its been left open enough so that I can see its a bathroom. Its a very impersonal room, no pictures of family or friends. It's mysterious, just like him. Zayn stands quietly after he shut the door, and I don't notice him watching me taking in the room until I glance over at him. "I think its past your bed time, love" he tells me as he walks over to me. Probably because I feel asleep on him at the party, and he sounds a bit sleepy himself. "Is your lip okay?" I ask him softly, furrowing my eyebrows. I bring my hand up and gently run my thumb over the cut. This is definitely the alcohol acting here. He watches me, his dark eyes focusing on my features while I focus on his lip. "It's okay" he assures me in a whisper. I pull my hand away, but he catches my wrist, and walks me over the bed.

I follow behind him as he pulls me before he puts his hands on my hips and sets me down on the bed. I'm completely silent, my eyes following his every move as he crouches down in front of me and starts to undo the straps of my heels, taking them off and laying them next to each other on the floor. He stands up again, towering over me as before reaching down and taking my hands, standing me back up. We are both silent as he walks behind me, slipping his warm leather jacket off my shoulders, and throwing it on the ground, before I feel his fingers fumbling with the catch at the back of my dress. He undoes it, then takes the small zip in between his fingers and trailing it down my back. I'm thankful I opted for wearing a bra as his cold finger tips, trail over the soft skin of my back, as goosebumps quickly form. I don't dare to say anything, or even move, frozen in curiosity of what his next move will be. His hands disappear from my skin, and before I can figure out if I'm revealed or upset about it, he's standing in front of me again. He's a good foot or so taller than me, and I look up at him, but his eyes aren't looking for mine. They are trailing across my collarbone as he gently guides my dress down my body, and moving to every bit of new skin he exposes, taking it all in. His face is so soft now, all traces of his previous anger are completely gone, and his eyes are curious, as if he'd never seen anything like this before. He takes my arm in his hands as he tugs the sleeves off might right arm, and then my left, and my dress falls the rest of my way down my body, pooling at my feet. Zayn's hands find mine, and I step out of the dress and he kicks it away, his eyes still moving over my body. The demon he was fighting is long gone, and just the gentle boy remains. He places a kiss to my forehead before he lets go of my hands, walking over to the closet and grabbing a clean black v-neck. "Hands up" he mumbles when he's back in front of me again, and I do as he says, as he slips the shirt onto me. Its baggy and falls to my upper thigh, and he takes my hand again, leading me to his bed. He pulls back the covers and helps me in, before he gets undressed so he's only in a pair of black boxers. He flips off the light switch, making the small room pitch black before finding his way back to his bed. He nudges me over softly, before crawling in next to me and wrapping his arms protectively around me. He kisses more forehead, and I hear him mumble a good night, before I dose off to sleep.