Zero

39 °

(a/n) Welcome back :) *Remember to comment. *****

recap:

"Once you're in, it never stops."

I put my blood stained fists up and he does the same, grinning. This was just a little game to him. Everything is.

I soon find my strength within the adrenaline and fear that pumped through me, and I mimic Zayn's glowing, but devil- like smile.

God was I ready.

k a r a

My fists were shaking. Zayn looked at me with his golden brown eyes in amusement, taking in the entertaining sight before him. My face was covered in my own blood, and I was shaking in anger and fired up with adrenaline. But my heart was pulsing, and knees threatening to go weak. The dark contrast of his hoodie to the white paint of the front door he stood in front of only seemed to become more and more singled out.

I was beginning to feel my stomach contents voice their dismay. I felt sick. I felt weak. As I look at his threatening, evil grin, my brain was desperately trying to talk me back into reality. It was trying to make me realize just how dangerous he really was and how I was foolish thinking I could take him on in a fight- let alone win if he even so kindheartedly lets me live.

His hair was pushed back, out of his face as far as I could tell. And he wore grey sweatpants and timberlands paired with the black hoodie... I never once said the man was unattractive. But now was not the time to acknowledge.

It felt as if we were standing here for hours. I felt myself becoming dissociated as we looked at each other in this mere minute, waiting for any movement to spring between us. However, I wasn't sure on what he was thinking.

Zayn Malik is one of hardest people to read. You can only read what he allows you to. The rest is up for you to ponder while he closes in for attack.

I didn't notice, but I kept involuntarily flicking my eyes up to the stairs at the corner of my eyes. The only time I realized was when he pointed it out. "Someone up there, sweetheart?" He almost dropped his grin as he caught onto my subconscious action.

I let my fists grow tighter, not even wincing as my nails pierced through the skin of my sweaty palms.

My stomach did a flip. At this moment, Harry was my only weakness. The only one who could get me to back down, the only one who could get me to be stronger. "It doesn't matter." I spit. "Like I said, you'd have to fight me for him. And we both know I'm never the one to back down." My confidence was exceeding.

He looks at me for a second, then drops his stance, chuckling. "Kara, we both know who would win this fight." I tilt my head sideways, glaring, fuming at his words. One of the things I hated most was when people thought it was okay to belittle me. "Always making things far more complicated than they have to be." He continues. His eyes were menacing. "Let me get to Harry- or i'll just kill the both of you." He bargains, his voice barely audible as he finishes.