slow it down // zayn malik

chapter fourteen // pressing pause.

zayn's pov

CLINK CLINK CLINK CLINK

Linley and I stare at the large, beefy man that drips sweat as he hoists his sharp axe-like tool over his head to bring it down with ferocity on the metal chain between our wrists. The metal holds strong, as if it were mocking us. 

I am holding my breathe - close to the point of passing out - as I wait in anticipation for the metal to break free. After the wire cutters and heavy-duty pair of construction scissors didn't work, this is our last hope. 

My eyes flicker up to watch Linley as she chews on the fingernails of her free hand, practically shaking with nerves. Her twiggy legs knock together as she bounces in place with impatience. 

After a few more moments of aggressive chopping, the man wipes his forehead with the back of his dirty hand, turning to give us both an apologetic frown. 

"No, no, no!" Linley moans, throwing her head back with defeat. 

"I'm sorry," The man shakes his head as he tosses his axe-like tool back into his heavy-duty toolbox, "There's a reason these are used for dangerous criminals. You ain't getting out of this mess unless you have a key," He shrugs, not being able to do much more. 

I let out a deep sigh as I run my fingers through my hair, not enjoying this feeling of pure helplessness.

"You don't think you know anyone who would have a key?" I ask, trying to stand tall, to intimidate the man into getting me what I want. That's how I've seen every man in my business get what he wants. 

But unfortunately the man doesn't feed into it. He simply looks at me as if I were the biggest idiot in the world.

"No," He says flatly, rolling his eyes as he bends over to pick up the handle to his toolbox.

Without another word, he wheels his toolbox behind us as he leaves us all to ourselves. Linley and I just stand there in silence, trying our hardest to figure out some other way out of this. 

I had never seen Linley look so happy than when we found the man with the toolbox. She looked like she was about to cry of pure happiness. Thinking about that makes me feel so awful about the defeated look she wears; again looking like she's going to cry. 

"We should just find the guy who handcuffed us together," I say softly, reaching out to softly touch her on the shoulder, but before my fingertips make contact with her flesh, I double think my actions. My hand retreats to fall back at my side once again. 

Linley doesn't say anything, only nods. She keeps her eyes on the ground, looking absolutely miserable. I bite on my bottom lip, wishing there were something I could do to make her feel better. I've never met someone who's so completely devoted to their job. I respect her quite a lot for it. 

So the two of us take off on the dirty road once again, neither of us saying anything to the other. There's nothing either of us can really say in this moment. But the silence isn't awkward or tense, it's just a calm silence. It's comfortable. 

I can't stand those girls who feel the need to fill the silence with words and conversation every moment of the day. I enjoy my peace and quiet and at this moment, my brain feels as if it were about to explode, I appreciate the silence between the two of us. 

We pass a few fans - of both Linley and I, which is still so odd to me - and we wave politely, but never stop and talk. Knowing Linley, if someone tried to stop and talk to her, she'd probably claw their face off. You never quite know with her. 

Figuring the large man that had handcuffed us was probably around the different venues, we head in the direction of all the large stages. There's already a band playing full-out, with quite a large crowd formed and it's merely four in the afternoon.