Forbidden

Chapter sixty-nine

Songs for the chapter: James Bay - Let it go (baerson remix)
Rita Ora - Poison

Long chapter ahead.(seriously there's more than 6000 words I think, sorry.) Vote?

***

Deciding to cut us off was very rash, maybe out of place, even exhausting. It shouldn't make me feel like this. I should be relieved that I put a line through this. But here I was pouting to myself that he's not reaching out for me.

It hurt. I was the one who told him that this was not going to work and I was determined to not be with him, but somehow even if I want to prevent myself, I thought that like all the past times I'd told him to stay away, he'd come right back, but he never did. I know I had every right to do this but it hurts me.

If he could just be honest with me...

I couldn't sleep the whole night. And today I was all alone because Zayn had to pick up Liam I think.

I look around the place.

There was a chess board on the right corner of the wall, and a large rug lay underneath the sofas. A big fireplace was on the opposite side, I knew it was a real fireplace not one of those fake ones.

I felt out of place, lonely and weird.

+

I had taken a nap and was waken up by Zayn's loud footsteps, also he was mad and tossed a bag to his feet when I look at him from my position on the couch. He's wearing a plain black t-shirt that was limp around his throat, giving me a view of his neckline and tattoos. His hair looked ruffled from being outside, it seemed soft and fluffy.

When his eyes catch mine my breath hitches. A cigarette was hanging limply from his lips, and his golden eyes were glaring down at me before he went to his room.

After that I don't see him for the rest of the day. It had gotten late in the evening and I wanted to sleep but the sweater I had on would be too hot to sleep in and only underwear would be too cold.

It would be awkward to go and get a change of clothes but then again I didn't have a choice... Maybe I did but I wanted to see what he's doing. He's been avoiding me the whole day.

I seriously need to make up my mind.

The door creaks open and I begrudgingly walk in.

He's sitting on the bed and having a mac on his lap, shirtless. I could see the muscles rippling under his skin. All the tattoos he had imprinted on his skin were fascinating like always.

I notice that I'm ogling at him and he hasn't seen me. I walk to the closet opposite of the bed.

That's when I feel nerves kicking in. I knew he noticed me.

Hurriedly I take just a random shirt with shaky hands then turn around which I shouldn't have because I made the mistake to stare at him straight.

He eyes me with such repulsion and hatred that I shied away. Zayn's averting his squinting stare to the side. His jaw clenched and he scoffed as he stands up and strides to the nigh stand leisurely, his back flexes with every step, "I don't want you in here. It's my room after all." he sounded like he couldn't care less, then he picked up his box of cigarettes with a frown, placing one between his lips and went to the small balcony. "Close the door when you're out." he rasped while he pulled open the balcony door, back clenching and muscles prominent because he was suppressing his anger.

Not once did he find it necessary to look at me. It bothered me more than it should have. What is his problem? I can't understand him... He thinks I'm emotional and moody but he's worse.