A Thousand Ways, One Direction

Resisting Zayn

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Chapter 3 – Resisting Zayn

~Ian~

I turned again, three pillows fell this time. It has been hours since I got to bed and I could barely even close my eyes. Max is home now, safe and sound, nothing to worry about anymore. I shoved him off my mind. It’s not him. It couldn’t be him.

                Drew said he’s coming back. Without my knowing again! What’s new? He should’ve at least told me. It was classic Zayn.

                With a grunt, I jolted myself up.

                “Fine.” I muttered, “You win, Pea-brain.”

                I threw off my blankets and plodded my way to my windows. I felt the July breeze as I opened it but it wasn’t what made me shiver. In the dead of the dark, there was a shiny black car and a man beside it. I reached for the switch beside me, all the lights in my room turned on. It felt safer when I could see what’s around me. I ran quickly to bed, half expecting the Boogeyman to come after me. Horror really did strike me when the overly-familiar rang in my ears; I stopped dead on my tracks, wide-eyed.

                “Hey, you’re awake!”

                It can’t be. That voice can’t be.

                “Hey, dummy!” He called again, loud enough to wake up the whole street, “I know you’re awake!”

                I faced my window, completely rigid.

                “Noodle-heaaaaaaaaaaad!!” He was screaming at the top if his lungs.  Panic sent me running towards my window. What was he thinking? It’s nearly mid-night!

“What the heck, Zayn!” I hissed angrily. I heard dogs bark from a distance and groggy voices curse at him loudly. Satisfaction was obvious in his face. “What do you want?”

His expression changed slightly, eyebrows furrowed, “I—uh—well,” he bit his lip, thinking hard, “I just wanted to….”

“Piss me off?” I suggested bitterly.

A smirk played on the corner of his lips as he put his hands on his waist, “Yeah.”

I felt my cheeks turn hotter and tears were building up in my eyes, I shook my head. “Yeah, I thought so.”

I pulled my curtains close and furiously plodded back to bed.

He shouted again, “Talk! I mean talk! Ian!”

I ignored him. I buried my face on one of my pillows and put one on the back of my head, trying to drown his voice. I shot up, sitting on my thigh, terror-struck. He started singing—singing—my name. No! Not again! It’s too late for me to realize: you never should have let someone as annoying as him know you this well.

“Lianna Kylie Crowns!”

I grabbed my pillow and ran back once more to my window.

“Iaaaaaaaaaaaaa—” I cut him off by throwing my pillow down at him.

“Shut up! I’m coming down.” I grabbed my night robe and walked out the door, barefoot. I took a deep breath before daring to look at him—his eyes. Those beautiful eyes, I’ve always resisted looking at but have failed every time. I braced myself before walking nearer; it was too late when I realized I was already staring at his iris—oh, how the darkness veiled its real color. I wasn’t wrong. I wasn’t strong enough for Zayn. Will I ever be? Every single angry cell in my body seemed to have melted. I couldn’t push myself to hating him anymore. My heart thumping loudly; I’d like to think it’s because of anger.

“I have nothing to say, so start talking.” I tried to sound the way I did from up my room, but I wasn’t surprised when I sounded genteel.

He didn’t say anything, his smirk was still visible.

“What?”

He smiled even more. My eyes narrowed, the tears that were once there are gone but the heat in my cheeks remained. I took a step back, balled my fist and summoned all the force I could’ve had and a punch landed on his face.

“Ouch! What was that for? Man, you’re stronger that I remember.”

I satisfied grin spread across my face as I sent him on his knees, his hand on the spot where my fist landed.  “To wake you up. It was as if you were in dreamland, perfect place for a dreamy guy but no place for you.”

He got back up to his feet, slightly massaging his jaws and said in a teasing tone,“You shouldn’t be doing that. I’m famous now.”

“You might be squinting a little less now, walking around with your ridiculously fancy clothes and have girls follow you around now, and you might’ve come back with a much bigger head, if that was possible, but that doesn’t change anything. You’re still the cheekiest boy in the whole neighborhood…scratch that, on all Bradford!”

“Miss me?” He replied indolently.

“Gaaah!” I shook my whole body in frustration. He’s enjoying this I know. “No.”

“No?”

“Not in a thousand years.”

“Thousand years?”

“Stop it!”

“Stop it?”

“Pea-brain!”

“Yes?”

“Shut up!”

“Shut up?”

“You’re doing it again!”

“Doing it again?”

“You’re repeating every word I say!”

“Repeating every word—”

“Stop it Echo!” It was too late when I realized what he was doing, was; starting another trick on me, and I’ve already fallen on it.

“Sto—wait, what?” He paused after realizing what he had just done,

I did the safest thing available to do; play dumb. “What?”

“You called me Echo.”

“Called you Echo?”

“Yes you did! That means we’re good, right?”

“No, we’re not.”

“We’re not?”

“No.”

“No?”

“I’m still so mad.”

“So mad?”

“You’re so pig-headed.”

“Pig-headed?”

I gave in, my eyes softened and a chuckle escaped me, “Zayn.”

His eyes brightened, “You laughed! I heard you laugh.”

“Fine.”

“You’re still mad?”

“Yes.”

“Yes?” He pouted, “But then again, you’re never not mad at me, that would be really weird if you aren’t.” He smiled, “I know we’re good  right?”

“You’re impossible.”

He spread his arms wide, coming closer, expecting for a hug. My eyes widened. Fame changed him so much; he never wanted to give me a hug before.  I retreated. He saw my expression. He put his arms down and scratched the back of his neck.

 “Sorry, I just m—got used of hugging fans.”

I brought my face closer to his with my index finger pointed on mine, “Number one hater, remember?”

“Nice.” He said as I made my way back to the door, “G’night, Noodle-head!”

I climbed up the stairs, feeling defeated and yet, relieved. Only Zayn has got this effect on me. Oh, how he takes advantage of me.