Violet
Zayn and I arrive in Bradford around 2:30 pm, the trip more than ready to end. I've had enough. Not because of Zayn; he's actually not that bad of a car companion - he doesn't insanely chatter on about useless stuff that nobody cares about, play his music really loud, ignore me and make the whole car ride totally uncomfortable, he's good. Just ... good. But, I hate car rides; long ones especially. I've never coped well with them, ever since I was a child. The long, windy trips make my head spin and my stomach churn; but of course I was never going to let Zayn know that. Plus, I've had years of experience to know how to cope - a water bottle, music I like so that I can focus on that, and something sugary and sweet to keep my energy up. I was just surprised Zayn was so okay with it - the music thing. I've driven with people who get real bothered with playing music they don't like. Well, eventually. I mean, he took some time.
"Welcome to the shittiest place on earth," Zayn declares as we enter the town. I'm about to pass out, I need to get out of this car. I've handled three hours acting like I was totally fine, but I'm starting to feel dead.
Zayn seems to notice because I see him glance at me, obviously wondering why I didn't laugh at his joke, and then do a double take. "You okay?"
I fan myself with my shirt. "Yah-huh."
"You're looking scarily green," he points out.
"I am?" I feel my face, which just feels overheated.
"We're nearly at my house," he says, and I realise he says 'house' not 'home'. It's all these little things I've come to learn and really take notice of in Zayn. "Five minutes."
He's not lying; five minutes later he's pulling up a driveway and stopping in a small clearing off to the side of a small, but tidy and cute brick house. There's not much space around it with two houses right next door, and only a small grass patch and outdoor area out the front. There's a small garage to the side with one car and I catch sight of a clothesline hanging in the back with pink and yellow and all kinds of colours pegging off it. The house itself feels warm and inviting with two steps leading up to a dark door and large windows with the curtains pulled back to allow a view inside the house.
I love it immediately.
But, I don't waste anymore time admiring the house. As soon as Zayn parks I leap out of the car and take several deep breaths, closing my eyes. I'm not going to vomit, because how embarrassing would that be? That is not the way to introduce yourself to your 'boyfriend's' parents. The air's still thick and hot, but somehow less here.
"Car sick, huh?" Zayn's voice startles me from my left.
I open my eyes and look over at him. He's pulling out all of our bags, and he looks over his shoulder at me. "Why didn't you tell me?" He stands up and heaves his duffle over his shoulder.
"I'm not," I say defensively, for some unknown reason. "Just a little hot."
He stands by the door, cocking his head sideways as a small smirk plays at his lips. "Right. Well, whatever it is, you okay now?"
"Fine," I say. I go to step forward and find that my vision is blurred and I can't see anything. I immediately stumble, my body wobbling.
"Woah!" Zayn reaches out and steadies me. "Okay, you're not fine. Tell me what you need, I'll sit-"
"ZAYN!"
"Fuck," he mumbles. "Here we go."
I put a hand to my head and try to clear my vision so I know what's happening. Zayn's grip still holds onto my arm, but it feels looser. His attention's been stolen. I hear his voice, and another one I don't recognise. Finally, my vision comes back as I start feeling better.
I need to say something, let these voices know that I'm actually here. If I don't, isn't that rude? I need to introduce myself. "Hi," I blurt out, completely ruining Zayn and the younger girl's conversation. I just cut in, totally wishing I hadn't.
Their attention turns to me and I feel myself getting hotter than I already am. Great first impression, Violet. The bitch that needs attention on her at all times. "Uh, I mean, hi," I say again. "I didn't mean to interrupt but-"
"This is Violet," Zayn says impatiently, taking his hand off my arm. He gestures to the girl in front of him. "This is my sister, Waliyha."
Looking at her properly, I find that she looks a lot like Zayn. The same delicate and pretty features. She's dressed in a lace dress, her thick, dark hair back in a high bun. She studies me for a second, and I feel totally small and worthless under her stare, but then she grins.
"Hi!" She cries. "You're Zayn's girlfriend?" She eyes Zayn with some sort of cheeky look and he shoots her a death stare back.
"Uh, yeah," I choke. "That's me."
"Wal, the others in?" Zayn asks.
Waliyha looks behind her shoulder then back at us nodding. "Come in!"
"Yeah, just give us a sec," Zayn says, turning back to me. "You okay?" He mouths.
Why is he making such a big deal out of this? I don't like how he cares so much. "Yeah," is all I manage to say back.
He smiles, very faintly, then goes to retrieve our bags. We walk up to the front door and then, just as we reach the steps, I feel something soft on my left hand. I look down and see that Zayn's enclosed his hand in mine. My heart starts thumping immediately and I look up at him in panic. What is he doing?! He just stares casually ahead, following Waliyha and talking to her about Westlake. Then, I realise. Right. The acting starts now.
We reach the front door and we don't even get fully inside before a horrible scream hits me. A small girl in a red dress comes sprinting down the hall and throws herself at Zayn, bursting into tears. I'm about to say something when Zayn lets go of my hand, just like that, and bends down to hold the girl tight. My heart absolutely melts.
"Zayn!" She sobs into his chest and he just nods and cradles her in his arms. "Zayn, you came back!"
"I always was, Saff," he says back softly, stroking her hair.
I need to hold the door frame. What is this? Who is this? This is the cutest thing I've ever seen.
"Hello, hello, hello!" A chirpy voice comes next. I look up to see an older woman, and it's only until Waliyha greets her calls her 'mum' that I realise she's Zayn's mother. I can't believe it, she's gorgeous. There it is again, the cheeks, the eyes, the natural glowing look. It's Zayn.
"You must be Violet!" The 'mother' crushes me in a sudden, shocking hug. She holds me like I was her own child. I wrap my arms awkwardly around her and she smells of jasmine. "I'm Tricia. Oh, welcome to our home," she says as she pulls away, holding me at arms length and giving me a huge, warm smile. "Oh, aren't you just beautiful?"
I blush madly and Zayn cuts in. "Mum, give her some space, yeah?"
At the sound of her son's voice, Tricia lets me go and moves her crushing hug towards Zayn. "Oh, Zayn! Baby! I've missed you so much!"
"You're the one that sent me away," Zayn mutters into his mum's shoulder, but I'm the only one that hears. Looking around at everyone, I can't understand how Zayn has such a hard time here. I haven't been here for more than a minute and all I've received is the warmest, genuine smiles.
"It's so nice to finally meet you, Violet," Tricia says to me. And I think all at once we realise we're crowded in the doorway. Tricia steps backwards, ushering us in. "Come in, come in."
Waliyha follows her mother into another room and it's just Zayn and I and this little girl in the red dress who won't let him go.
"Hi," I smile warmly at her, bending down so I'm near her size. She has to be Zayn's little sister, no younger than ten.
She glances up at me and then hides herself behind Zayn quickly. I laugh a little and Zayn looks down at her. "Safaa, this is Violet."
"Hi," I try again.
Zayn looks at me. "She's shy," he explains.
"I see."
Safaa continues to stare at me, and it's obvious she loves Zayn more than anything. It's also obvious Zayn loves her more than anything. I guess she's not used to Zayn having another girl around, someone else he likes more than her. Well, she doesn't have to worry. Plus, hasn't she seen girls around here before? Zayn's had to have had plenty of girlfriends.
"She'll warm up," he assures, moving to grab our bags. He ushers Safaa forward but she doesn't move too far ahead. Zayn sighs deeply and turns to me. "So that's my family. Minus two."
"They seem lovely."
"They're acting," he scoffs. "Total bullshit. My mum hasn't said shit like that to me since second grade."
"Second grade?"
"The year before I went rebel," he winks.
I roll my eyes. "Well, that's good then."
He looks confused. "Good?"
I smirk. He doesn't get to be the only one good at this game. "We're all acting." I grab his hand and squeeze it tight. I don't feel anything by doing it, it just feels different. Alien. Something unknown.
We walk into the lounge where everyone seems to be and they eye our hands and go all gooey. Tricia especially. "Yaser, Zayn's father, will be home later this evening," she explains. Zayn mumbles something under his breath and I notice his fingers tense a little beneath mine.
I just smile. "Great!"
I notice Waliyha and Safaa are just staring at me. Is my act not enough? Do they totally see through it? Do they hate me? It was the way I cut in with 'hi'. They hate me. I've ruined it all.
"Are you two thirsty? Hungry?" Tricia fusses, going around fluffing up pillows. "Sorry it's so messy around here."
Zayn rolls his eyes.
"I'd love a drink of water, please," I say. Trica tells Waliyha to go get me one.
"We're just gonna go to my room," Zayn says, his warm hand leaving mine so that he can pick up his bags again.
What? We are?!
Waliyha brings me a cup of water and I sip at it nervously. Zayn's room? I don't think I'm ready for this.
"Great!" I notice there's a brighter light in Tricia's eyes, like she knows something we don't.
Zayn hurries down the hall, motioning for me to follow him. He points out everything briefly as we pass and then stops outside of a closed door. "I don't know where you'll be sleeping, but-"
He opens the door to reveal a very unusual teenage boy's bedroom. Dozens and dozens of roses and their petals cover his pink sheeted double bed, scented candles sit around the room, a box of chocolates on the edge of his bed and a large sign above the pillows reads, Love Birds.
I gulp down a whole mouthful of water as Zayn just makes this choking, dying noise.
"Do you guys like it?" Tricia appears beside us, looking inside Zayn's room proudly.
Zayn rushes into his room. "What the hell is this?" He blows out the candles, opening the curtains and ruining the dim lighting. "WHERE IS MY BED?!"
I'm confused, totally confused. Is this meant to be funny? Is this humour I'm meant to laugh at? What's going on here? I step awkwardly into the room.
"Well, I thought I should make your room a bit more suitable for the both of you," Tricia says calmly.
Zayn tears down the Love Birds sign and literally throws it out the window. He takes a deep breath, ruffling his hair. "Mum ..."
"Margaret from work was giving away her daughter's old bed. I figured you and Violet would want to share, so ..."
My eyes go wide just as Zayn's do.
"What? Share a bed? Us?" He cries.
Tricia smiles. "You know, when your father and I first got together we were inseparable. I can't believe my son's finally found true love! Maybe it'll be you two to get married next, huh?"
I spit out my mouthful of water I just take, sending it all onto Zayn. He turns to me, absolutely seething, his shirt soaking wet with my spit. "Oh, nice," he snaps. "Real nice. Yeah. Thanks."
I wipe my mouth, setting down my glass. "Mrs. Malik, if I may, Zayn and I are more the private type. You know, we can go a lot of days without being together. Bed sharing isn't a thing for us."
Tricia places her hand on my arm. "I see right through you! Don't worry, I understand. I trust you both completely! Plus, there isn't any other option. Doniya has your old bed, Zayn." My stomach drops to the floor. "Now, you two get settled and just have fun." She leaves the room.
If things weren't awkward already, they certainly are now. I take big, deep breaths and try and think of a solution to this.
"You're not sharing a bed with me," Zayn snaps.
"You think I want to?" I snap back.
Zayn paces the room. "I can't believe she did this. A double? Doniya with my single? Sharing, with you?"
"Woah," I cut in. "You think I'm happy with this, with any of it? This was your idea, remember? You take full responsibility for it all."
"How was I to know my fucking mother was going to turn my room into a honeymoon suite?!"
"Maybe you shouldn't have told her you were bringing home a girlfriend for two weeks."
"We are not sharing. There has to be another solution. This bed is so damn small I can barely fit myself."
"Where else can I sleep, Zayn? Outside?"
He turns to me. "It's a serious possibility."
I roll my eyes. Great. This is just great. Sharing a bed with Zayn is taking this acting thing to a whole new level. I don't know if I can do it.
Zayn sighs, sitting down on the bed and putting his head in his hands. "This was such a bad idea."
I clear away a few rose petals and sit down beside him. "We made a deal," I say. "And deals are never broken."
He scoffs. "Deals are made to be broken."
"Well, not this one," I say with more edge. "We both had aims for this and we're going to see them through. You're going to take me to Saltaire and I'm going to go to this damn wedding with you and convince even the mayor that we're in love, if that's what it takes. No matter how hard, we're going to do it. Got it?"
He removes his head from his hands and slowly sits up, eyes glancing at me. "Are you serious? You mean, this-" he waves his arms around to gesture to the room, "-isn't enough to scare you off? Make you go home? There are roses on the bed, for god's sake!"
I don't know why, but I laugh. I burst out laughing. Roses! It's so ridiculous! Maybe it's the heat, or maybe I still haven't recovered from the car ride, but I just can't stop laughing. It's funny! It is humour I'm laughing at. I pick up the petals and throw them in the air, laughing more and more.
Zayn looks at me like I'm mad, and maybe I am. "Why are you laughing? This isn't funny!" But his voice cracks and he begins to laugh, too.
I throw my head back as Zayn puts a rose behind his ear and gives a seducing wink. It falls out and lands on my knee. This really isn't how we imagined this deal to be like. Maybe I'm laughing because it's easier to do so than worry, it's easier to do so than panic and cry and fight. It's all I can do, and it's all I want to do.
I catch Zayn's sparkling eyes that curve as he laughs and he just shakes his head, smiling at me.
"You have pink sheets," I say to him, my laughter dying down to just a small giggle.
"The candles smell like pee," he says back.
"There's a rose petal in your hair," I point out.
"I know," he says. "And guess what?"
"What?" I grin, feeling my laughter coming back on again.
"I think I'm sitting on rose thorns."
I roll over and burst into another fit.
------
"So, Violet, where are you from?" Zayn's dad asks me as we sit around the dinner table. He piles scoops of potatoes onto his plate but keeps his gaze on me.
I take the bowl of roasted vegetables from Zayn. "Windsor," I answer.
"Oh, a rich girl, huh?" Yaser eyes Zayn.
He just ignores him and eats a forkful of vegetables.
"What do your parents do?" Tricia asks.
"They, uh, own a country club," I say awkwardly, keeping my focus on the bits of pumpkin I'm putting on my plate.
"A country club?" Yaser says. "Isn't that just a bit flash? What goes on at a country club? I wouldn't know, I've never been."
"Nothing exciting, really." I place a forkful of rice in my mouth and swallow before talking again. "You're not missing out."
Yaser snorts. "Sure I am! Is this what you're interested in, Zayn? I sent you to Westlake and this is what you come home with?"
Zayn slams his fork down and looks at him. "Really? Was that really necessary?"
I keep my eyes on my plate awkwardly.
"Boys, please. Can we just-" Tricia starts but then gets cut off.
Yaser sips at his water. "You tell me, son. This little one here isn't like the others. Not really your type."
"So what? You got some sort of issue? Some sort of problem with people who have it held together better than you?" Zayn snaps.
Yaser glares at him. "That's enough. You don't speak to me that way. This is your first night back, boy."
"Please, Violet is our guest," Tricia finally says.
Yaser sighs deeply as Zayn goes quiet again. "I'm sorry, Violet," he apologises sincerely. "I think you're a very nice young lady. Just maybe not the right one for Zayn."
Zayn gets to his feet, his chair scraping against the wooden floor. "I'm getting a drink," he lazily mumbles before storming off.
I idly stab my vegetables with my fork, my appetite lost. What's he trying to say? I mean, I know Zayn and I aren't meant to be together, but the way Zayn's dad explains it, it's like Zayn's not worthy. Like I'm some special prize that he can never win. It makes me a little sad, and a little angry. Maybe Zayn and I have more in common than we think.
"I don't think so," I say, and I'm unsure whether I'm acting or not. "Zayn's great. I think it's me that's lucky to have him."
Tricia smiles like a little school girl. "How sweet. Hear that, honey?" She nudges her husband. "The two are smitten."
Yaser just nods stiffly and swallows another mouthful.
I continue, not really knowing where I'm going with this or why I'm even speaking. I've said more than I should have already, more than anyone wants to hear. Maybe it's because Zayn's not here, and I feel the need to defend him as his 'girlfriend'. But maybe it's just because I feel the need to as his friend. As someone who actually knows who he is. As someone who understands how parents don't.
"I don't really think you know your son at all. Because if you did, you'd see how incredible he is. You'd realise that he always has been. I haven't known Zayn for very long, but you just know he holds so much greatness. And he doesn't allow everyone to see it, it's this special gift and you're damn lucky if you get to witness it. If he gives you the chance to unravel it; open it up. And it's just something you want to treasure forever. I ... I've seen it. I've seen what he's capable of, and it's incredible. And that's why I fell in love with him." I wet my bottom lip with my tongue as I hesitate, my eyes on Yaser. "So maybe you're right, maybe all Zayn and I will ever be is just what we are, nothing less, nothing more. Maybe I'm not the right one for him. But if that's true, it'll be because I just wasn't lucky enough to be."
Everyone at the table just looks at me and I suddenly become very aware of what I said, and how rude it would have seemed. I fully just snapped at his father. Zayn's father. The father I'm supposed to be buttering up, making Zayn look good. My job here is to help, not just cause more shit.
"Wow," Waliyha says. "You really do love him."
My neck gets really hot all of a sudden. Wait, I'm supposed to love him. This is a good compliment.
Yaser's jaw sits still, slightly clenched. He gives a nod and spears a potato with his fork, giving me a quick look. "You're right." He gives a small smile, the same one Zayn gives, and then goes back to focusing on eating.
I just smile weakly back and Tricia just smiles, tears almost in her eyes. "That was lovely, Violet. Thank you."
"Sure," I say timidly, pretending to eat. But my food's cold and my stomach's sore. Zayn comes back a few minutes later and we eat in silence for the rest of the meal. I can't help but think what Zayn would think if he heard what I said about him. Maybe he wouldn't care, maybe he'd just blame it on the acting. But something inside of me wants me to think he knew it was genuine.
------
We sit in the lounge, Zayn and I on one couch as 'huddled up' as we can be without choking, and Waliyha on the other one reading a book. Safaa's with us, on Zayn's left. She hasn't left his side since he got here.
"Safaa, honey," Tricia calls. "It's time for bed. Say good night to everyone."
"I don't wanna go to bed!" Safaa cries. "I wanna stay with Zayn."
"Hey, I'm not going anywhere," Zayn assures her. "Head on up to bed, I'll see you in the morning."
Safaa smiles and hugs him. "Night, Zayn. I love you."
He kisses the top of her head. "Love you, too."
She looks nervously at me and I smile. "Night, Safaa."
"Night," she says shyly before running down the hall.
Zayn and I focus our attention back to the cartoon that's on TV. I'm not really interested in it, but Zayn seems to be judging by his laughs every minute or so. He has his arm on the back of the couch, behind me, our thighs about half a metre apart. It's about as loved up as we can get.
"I wanna thank you," he whispers in my ear suddenly, leaning down and moving slightly closer.
I turn to him, finding his face not very far away from mine. "For what?" I whisper back.
He leans in closer, so close now that our thighs are touching. "I heard what you said about me, to my dad."
My eyes widen. "You heard?!" I yell/whisper.
He smirks. "I was in the kitchen, Princess. Not Africa."
My cheeks redden and I find him staring at them, like they're some piece of art he likes. "It was nice," he whispers, and I really don't know why we're whispering. "You're good at this, you know."
"This?"
"Acting?"
"Oh. Right. Acting." I feel something inside of me break just a little. I glance over and see Waliyha looking at us from behind her book, an over excited smile on her face. She quickly looks away when my eyes meet hers. I look back at Zayn, who's nearly on top of me. "You're welcome?"
He laughs under his breath. "Hey, you have goosebumps," he notices. I look down at my arms and realise that I do. But I'm not cold. It's still stifling hot. They weren't there before Zayn ... oh, no way.
"Come here," Zayn says, taking me by surprise and wrapping me in his arms. "I'll warm you up, baby."
He turns his attention back to the TV, his arms around my chest and his body dangerously close to mine. I sit, very stiffly.
I catch Waliyha's gaze again and she's giggling insanely behind her book. I wish she wasn't here, so then we wouldn't have to act. But she's totally lapping it up, she's like a total romantic child who's seeing true love for the first time.
I relax my body and lean in a bit closer into Zayn's chest, finding that I don't mind it. His cotton shirt is warm from the heated air, the fabric soft and clean. He put on a different one since I spat all over his old one. He tightens his arms around me and looks down, laughing a little. This is all it is, this funny act. But so what if it's just an act? It doesn't mean I can't enjoy it. Just a little.
ahgsffd sorry its been like ten years since I last updated but I am officially free now!! Well, to a degree. Last week was just manic but now I hopefully have a chance to relax bc I just really want to update regularly for y'all and watch teen wolf and the carrie diaries and just chill at home I like home. Home is where the heart is. AHHH DID ANY OF YOU WATCH 1D DAY?? I did! The whole eight hours! If you did comment and tell me what part you liked the best. Niall with his lilac hair was the biggest highlight for me. Also, got Midnight Memories today!! Anyone else? Heheheh. Anyway, this is getting more exciting as I get deeper into it, huh? JUST WAIT TILL THE WEDDING WAAHHOOOOOO love you all hope you havent left me D: xxxx