Secrets (Zayn Malik)

Chapter 54

"I'll call her. Just to find out what she could possibly want now, but I trust you. I truly do." I smirk at him, and he looks away; picking at a strand of thread off the couch.

"Do you?" He asks, almost whispering the words to himself.

"Yeah, you're all I have now. Sometimes I think I can't trust anyone except you actually." I laugh shakily, and I realize just how heavy that must feel on him. Being that he may not even feel the same way, it probably came off as too much. "You said you would be my family now, way back when."

"Was it really that long ago?"

"Well, next month will be five months so yeah. I'd say it's been a while." Keeping his eyes focused on the cushion between us, he takes my hand in his; playing with the sparkly ring on my finger.

"What is this ring from?" He asks, finally looking up at me.

"My mom gave it to me around the time of my birthday. She wasn't around for the actual thing, and we all know she wasn't around much longer after." I shrug, clenching my jaw to hold back the tears I feel welling up inside.

"Why do you say it like that?" He chuckles, spinning the ring around my finger before sliding it off.

"Say what?"

"Mom. You have a British accent, yet you say mom in such an American way."

"You sound disgusted by that!" I burst out laughing, wiping a stray tear with my free hand.

"No, I'm not. It's just, odd." He smiles, exposing his tongue hinting behind his teeth.

"My mum," I exaggerate my accent. "Was American, so I was taught to say it that way. My dad never cared how I said it, so I've always said it like that. Although, from time to time I'll say mum. I didn't think things such as these mattered until I met you." I gaze at him, searching and digging for a hint of what he could possibly be thinking as he looks at me.

"Truthfully love, I didn't think much mattered at all until I met you." He shrugs casually, and slides one of his metal rings off his index finger. "I want you to have this."

He places the metal ring in the palm of my hand, the cool steel an unusual feeling against my skin. I hold it close so I can see it better, and notice his initials engraved around it. The letters are black,contrasting against the stainless steel.

"Why?"

"Because I love you? Why the hell else?" He scoffs, rolling his eyes.

"You've never been romantic a day in your life." I shake my head, but place the ring in the spot where I had my moms gift.

"I beg to differ. After all, I did make love to you in that bedroom over there." He points to the bedroom across the loft, and I blush at the thought of just two nights ago.

"So vulgar as well."

"Oh no. No, definitely not!" He laughs loudly, and pulls me onto his lap. "Vulgar would be me saying I fucked yo-"

"Enough!" I giggle, hiding my face in my hands. He attempts to pry them away, but I resist; pulling against it.

"Don't make me do it."

"Do what?"

"Tickle you." He purrs in my ear, making me flinch away. I can't let him get me every fucking time.

"Fine! Fine, you win." I throw my hands up in defeat, meeting his stare. He grips both of my wrists, and holds them to his chest quickly. The clear confident smirk of victory plastered on his face.

"Damn, I was really hoping you'd let me." He pouts.

"We all know where that leads baby."

"Yeah, to me fucking th-"

"Nope! We're done!" I hop off his lap, and make my way to the kitchen for some tea.

"Ella, we're never done." He laughs, and crosses his arms behind his head as he lays watching me from the couch. "With me, you're never done."

I spin around quickly, placing a hand on my hip and squint at him in the darkness of the living room. The shadows of the buildings, and roof over our heads makes his prominent features difficult to see in the lighting, when the world outside is the only thing illuminating this entire apartment.

"You have a way with words Zayn," I shake my head, turning back to the steaming silver pot on the stove. "A creepy one I might add."

"Everything I say means something though! Isn't that how it works?" He rolls off the couch, and stalks over to me, trapping my body between the granite counter and himself with his hands. Whatever cologne he decided to bathe himself in is clouding me, my thoughts, senses, everything. I rub my nose gently, trying to ignore the strong scent of what is Zayn, and focus on the stray strand of hair hanging in front of his forehead.

"What exactly are you saying?" I ask, reaching up to brush the hair away. He stops me midway, gently holding my wrist and pushing it back down to my side. "Are you some sort of riddler? I mean, you're not making any sense."

"Oh no!" He scoffs, leaning closer to me; our noses brushing swiftly. "I may have secrets love, but I'm not clever enough to be some sort of Edward Enigma."

I frown slightly, crossing my eyes to meet his focused on my nose already.

"I'm saying, that sometimes half the shit I say may not make sense to you." He pecks my nose with his lips briefly, before releasing me from his cage and leaning against the counter across from me. "But it will, eventually. You have to trust that everything I say makes sense, or at least that it will in due time."

"Why can't you just explain it to me now?" I ask, turning to shut off the stove.

"It's not the right time." He shrugs casually. The air vent above us clicks on, blowing warm air into the small kitchen space, and he pulls the knit sleeves of his sweater past his hands, shivering. The urge to cuddle into him and allow myself to feel protected in his grip with his arms wrapped around me, ignites and spreads within me like wildfire. But I resist, focusing on my cup of tea.

"Can you at least assure me of one thing?" I step closely to him, so that we're once again within an inch of eachother.

His jaw clenches subtly, but he manages to soften his gaze. "And what is that?"

"That you love me. You love me, and that you would never hurt me."

"Where did this e-"

"Zayn!" I whine, swatting his arm.

He purses his lips into a firm line, his jaw clenching repeatedly to keep his straight face. "I can assure you, that I love you." We don't break our stare this time, mainly because neither of us are willing to give in. But I feel his hand brushing against my own, searching for a way to link his fingers in mine. I extend my hand, and open it wide, allowing him to lace his hand in my own while he stares straight through me. "And that I won't ever hurt you."

lol filler chapter because eh, who doesn't love those? keep in mind I also have a Harry fanfic if you're more of a styles girl. Just sayiiiiiiiin *winks*