We All Have Our Sad Stories

Chapter 19

"I just wanted to say thank you. I never got the chance to before. Figured I'd do it now just in case.." She didn't have to finish the last sentence-- he knew what she was talking about. Things could be so unlikely these days.

"What exactly is it that you're thanking me for, again?" He looked at her, scooting closer to catch her eyes. She refused to let her gaze meet his.

Running a hand over her face, she stifled a fake laugh. "I'm so bad at this."

"Nah," he said, taking her hand. "You just have to finish your sentences. Maybe even elaborate a little bit," he teased.

"Why do you always touch me?" She pulled her hand from his for the millionth time.

"I'll answer it after you're done explaining." He got close enough that their knees were touching, preserving the feeling of their skin touching.

Her curiosity got the best of her. "It was for giving me blood. I know that it's a little late for a thank you, but I had to say it. The way I thanked you at first wasn't necessarily the best."

He smiled, remembering how she had slapped him upon awakening. As he looked at the shy girl sitting next to him, he wondered how he had ever thought of her as cold and unfeeling. That one day where he had upset her just to see her in pain was a day he swore he'd always regret.

When he didn't answer, she kept going, not able to stop. "I guess at the time I was just angry at you for saving me.."

Stunned, he looked at her, not able to keep quiet this time. "Why were you angry?"

"Because I thought it was finally over." She sighed, leaning back deeper into the couch. "But it doesn't matter now, because I'm here still, and I've got people to protect."

He gulped. "Why would you ever want it to be over?"

She snapped her head to look at him, her eyes flashing with realization at the words she had said. "I shouldn't have said that," she said quickly, sitting up straight and moving to stand. He grabbed her hand, frowning deeply as she shook it off again. He would soon get used to that feeling, having it happen so much.

"Tell me," he begged.

"No." She tried to dart out of the room quickly, but Zayn wasn't willing to let her go that easy.

"Don't you want me to tell you why I always touch you?" She stopped dead in her tracks, turning her head slowly to glare at him. Knowing he had her right where he wanted her, he said, "Sit back down and I'll tell you."

Like an obedient child, she sat herself back down, her bottom just barely on the edge of the seat. She glared at her shoes, wanting to get up and leave. Yet his answer was so compelling that she went against her mind for once, listening to someone other than herself. Not saying anything, she waited for his words. No one had ever made a move to touch her before; she usually never let anyone within at least a foot of her. Liam was the only exception-- he actually needed her close to feel any comfort.

"I touch you because-" He stopped, hoping she would look at him after his pause. He guessed right, almost laughing when her head whirled around to look at him, her eyes incredibly wide. Looking into her eyes, he held her attention and finished his sentence. "I touch you because I like the way it feels." He wanted to say much more, elaborating as she never really did. He wanted to say how the warmth in her hands brought so much comfort to him; how her bitten nails didn't scratch him as Perrie's sometimes did; how he loved how she sometimes held his hand tightly, or otherwise not at all. Yet, he stayed silent. One step at a time.

She gasped, the sound subtle. He heard it, though, smiling at her flustered face. Suddenly her eyes grew dim, his grin slowly fading away at the sight. She practically ran out of the room, only stopping at the start of the hallway to harshly spit, "I think Perrie's calling for you."