Chapter 35
(Kat's POV)
"Wake up, darling." I heard a familiar voice whisper from behind me.
I covered my eyes with my hand, still not ready to get up. "Let me sleep," I croaked.
A soft kiss was placed on my cheek, "you're going to have to wake up," Zayn spoke in his morning voice. I didn't respond, instead digging my head in my pillow. He chuckled, "fine, then at least tell me what you want for breakfast."
"Nothing."
He laughed, as if I really didn't mean this, "come on babe, what do you want to eat?"
"I really don't want to eat anything," I replied truthfully. My eating schedule now-a-days did not consist of breakfast or dinner, just lunch, which was a salad. I was losing a lot of weight, but still working on being as comfortable with myself like the other models. Honestly, not eating seemed to be the answer.
Zayn's voice became stern, "what do you mean?"
"I mean I'm on a diet," I turned to face him, "and my diet doesn't consist of breakfast."
His attire made me smile. His hair was all messy, he had on no shirt just like me, and he had to squint while he talked, still not freshened up.
"You have to eat."
"No I don't."
"Yes you do."
I took a breath, not wanting to argue with him after everything that happened, "Zayn listen, I have to get skinny, and constantly working out and not eating is the only answer to succeed as a model."
"You're already so thin," he said, "you don't need to be losing any more weight, it's getting unhealthy."
"It's not," I said feeling a bit offended, "I'm perfectly healthy."
He got up off the bed, "you're eating."
"No I'm not."
"Yes," his eyes became stone hard, "you are."
Even though I knew eating breakfast one time won't impact my weight so much, I didn't want to lose against Zayn again. He always wins.
"You don't control me Zayn," I spat as he began walking out the room.
"Who's roof are you under?" He said casually, walking out.
I rolled my eyes, "then I'll just leave."
"The door is open."
I sighed heavily, pressing my head back down in the pillow. It was getting very annoying whenever he wins. He doesn't understand what I have to go through, it was hard not being perfect like everyone else.
Whatever, even if he brought food I wasn't going to eat it.
Meanwhile, as I lay in bed thinking about how irritated I was, I looked around Zayn's room.
It looked the same since last time, just a couple more posters added to his wall. He had multiple posters of bands hung up around the room, but what covered most of his walls were his drawings. He had multiples of them, some colored, some black and white. But he had one right over his bed, a drawing that made me smile every time I looked at it.
It was the drawing that Zayn drew the day we got together. The one where I was sleeping in his bed after I had passed out at the gym. I owed Zayn and I's relationship to that thing, it's what started everything.
I caught myself grinning at it when my mouth started to ache. I quickly resumed my position and realized that I was supposed to be angry at Zayn.
I heard pots and pans moving around, glasses clattering, the fridge opening and closing for a while before Zayn walked in. He had a tray on his hand but I ignored him. He set the tray down in front of me, sitting across from it.
I looked down at it to see two plates, both with pancakes in them. Two glasses were next to them, filled with strawberry shake. The pancake in front of me had a smiley face, hearts made out of strawberries for eyes but I turned my head, not falling in his trap.
"Eat up," Zayn said, "don't be shy."
I ignored him, staring at the blank wall beside me.
"Come on babe," he reached for my hands but I pulled it back.
"Fine," he said now, "if you're going to starve yourself, then I'm not letting you do it alone."
Now I turned to look at him. This was his plan all along. Clever shit.
I wasn't going to eat, and I should've just let him suffer. But then his stomach growled loudly, as if it were on point. I couldn't just make him hungry because of me.
I sighed, giving up, "you're so annoying."
"You're annoyinger."
"That's not a word."
"Shut up."
"You shut up."
I picked my fork and knife, cutting off a small piece of the pancake and bringing it up to meet his lips.
"You eat first," he ordered.
"Just eat it Zayn."
He looked down, cutting off a piece of his pancake and bringing it up to my mouth, "eat it."
I took a deep breath, then both of us opened our mouths at the same time and ate a piece of the pancakes from each other's hands.
"There you go," Zayn smiled, "that wasn't so hard now was it?"
I ignored him, still angry with him. Just because of his stubbornness, I was having to disrupt my diet and eat all this fat.
He didn't take his next bite until I did, and I realized he'd be doing that the whole time.
After a while if silently eating that dreadfully delicious pancake, Zayn spoke up in a low serious voice, "I know you haven't been eating right, Kat."
I looked up from my plate to see him looking at me directly in the eyes, meaning it was really important to him.
"It's fine."
"No it's not Kat. Look at yourself, you're getting too thin." He almost whispered.
I tried to look away as his eyes filled with worry, but I couldn't. "I have to do this Zayn, even if I don't want to."
"You don't have to Kat," he said, "please don't do this to yourself."
I hated talking about my weight in front of anyone, especially Zayn. He was the one who saw most of me, which means he knew the most also.
"You're beautiful Kat. You are so beautiful. But you fail to realize that because if what everyone else's opinions are." He reached over and set his hand on my knee.
I didn't believe him. But I didn't tell him that, I couldn't see him more upset. There were so many people who told me I was nothing special that when I was told that I was, I didn't believe it.
"Please believe me," he said as of he read my mind, "it hurts me seeing you like this."
"Like what?" I asked.
"Like you're not beautiful."
I finally looked down, unable to look him in the eyes any longer because I was getting weak.
I hated myself for being so simple. Especially when everything around me was so complicated.
He took a deep breath, "look, I know it's hard for you to be like the other models, but you don't need to be."
"Yes I do Zayn," I said, "they're all so much better than me, they get so many jobs, everyone loves them. And I'm just, well, I'm just-"
"You're just you."
"Exactly," I sighed, setting down my fork.
"But you are wonderful Kat," he breathed, "you are perfect. Everything about you is perfect, but people don't realize it. Especially you."
I ran my hands through my hair stressfully, not wanting to talk about this any longer. "Zayn, I'm not perfect. Okay. Can we just stop talking about this?"
"But Kat-"
"Zayn," I spoke a bit too loudly, "just forget it!"
He silently got up, taking the rest with him and walked out the door, slamming the door shut behind him.
Isn't it so funny how as a girl, all we want is for that prince charming to come along and sweep you of your feet, call you beautiful and perfect every day, but when that happens, you just don't accept it.
I couldn't help but feel bad for yelling at Zayn. Especially when I heard him speaking to himself loudly, a couple of things smashing here and there.
I decided to just go home, it was probably better for the both of us. I got up and walked to Zayn's drawer, pulling out one of his sweatpants and t-shirts. I quickly put them on, hearing more things crash from outside.
Zayn had a really short temper, and I think I might have taken it far by yelling at him. I shouldn't have, he wasn't doing anything wrong.
I walked outside quietly, not wanting to interfere with him. As I walked to the door, Zayn's back towards me, I heard him curse, "shit!"
I looked at him to see him shaking his hand rapidly, I looked closely to see blood pouring from it. I ran to him, pulling the bandages out of his cabinet.
"Sit down Zayn," I directed.
"Shit Kat!" He said, "I'm fine, I'm fine."
Despite that, I took his hand and directed him to the chair. I stood up in front of him and examined his cut. There was still a small piece of glass stuck in his skin.
"This is going to hurt a bit, okay?" I whispered to Zayn. I slowly took the glass out of his hand, flinching as I did so. He didn't make any noise, instead just shutting his eyes. I set the glass on the side, unwrapping the bandaid and wrapping it on his hand.
"Are you okay?" I brought his hand up to my lips and kissed it, blowing on it to make sure it didn't sting.
"Yeah, I'm okay."
"You shouldn't go around smashing things," I told him, "it's no use."
"What can you do when the love of your life doesn't think they're beautiful."
I sighed, "I need to do this Zayn."
"Then tell me Kat," he said, "do you need to do this because you genuinely want to loose weight, or are you doing this because you want to be as thin as everyone else who works with you."
I stayed silent for a second, thinking about lying to him. But we both obviously knew the right answer.
"Exactly," he spoke.
"Zayn." I breathed, "you don't understand. It's hard not being good enough."
"Not if you don't give a shit."
"But I have to."
"No you don't," he said, "it's not like any of these people are important."
"Yes they are."
He took the bandaid wrapper out of my hand, setting it down on the counter. He wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me to sit on his lap.
"Listen Kat, people are always going to have an opinion. Always. But that doesn't mean you just keep changing for them," he spoke quietly.
I sighed, turning to look at him, "but it's my job Zayn, I need the money for my own apartment. Dad and Cora want me to move out in a couple of months."
"Really?" He seemed stunned, "that quickly?"
I nodded, "and this is a well paying job Zayn. That's the only reason I'm doing this."
He listened to me carefully, then said, "there are plenty of other well paying jobs that don't require loosing weight."
"So what do you want me to do?"
He pressed his forehead to mine, "I want you to quit."
"Zayn," I breathed.
"Listen to me, you have to do this. There are many other jobs, trust me."
"I can't just quit because you're asking me to," I said calmly.
I watched as his facial expression went from hopeful to disappointed. "I see," he whispered. He slowly yet carefully slid me off of his lap until I was standing. He got up off the chair and without a word, he walked out of the front door.
It took me a moment to soak in everything that had just happened. I decided to leave him be for a while, it was best for both of us. I took his seat on the empty chair and began to think about what he had said.
Does he really want me to quit? It's not that big of a deal for me to loose weight. I mean, I did weigh less than the average nineteen year old but that doesn't mean it was strange. A lot of girls my age were loosing weight. It was perfectly normal to be a bit abnormal.
After thinking for about ten minutes, I decided to go check on him. I walked outside to see exactly what I had expected.
"Smoking again?" I asked, leaning against the wall just like him.
He inhaled sharply, "it happens."
We stayed silent for a while, just staring out at the empty streets in front of us. Finally I spoke up, "smoking isn't good for you Zayn."
"There are a ton of things that aren't good for me, Kat."
"Then you shouldn't do them," I replied.
"Then what fun would life be?" He turned to look at me and I stared back, knowing where this conversation was going.
"Not much," I replied truthfully. He turned back to stare at the street but I kept looking at him. The way he inhaled the deadly smoke and exhaled it back out, as if it were his normal air.
"You need to stop smoking, it's going to backfire Zayn," I spoke quietly.
He turned, looked me straight in the eyes while saying, "I can't just quit because you're asking me to."
I bit my lip. How did I not know that was coming. He must've gotten very upset after I had told him that because when he said it to me, I felt like someone slapped me.
I turned to look at the ground, avoiding eye contact with him. Man that hurt.
We found ourselves standing there again in the silence. A couple of cars passed by us, not paying much attention to us as we were to them. The sky brightened though the air grew colder, but that was the least of my problems.
Soon I felt something rub up against my legs, I looked down to see Tigger purring against me. I smiled and bent down, getting on my knees.
"Hey there," I spoke to him as he jumped up on my lap, locking his paws on my shoulder and rubbing the top of his head against my chin. "How'd you find me here?"
I hadn't seen him for a while, but right when I needed him, he'd shown up. It was like he knew because he was always here, even if nobody else was.
"You hungry baby?" I spoke to him calmly. He climbed off of my lap and walked around me and I took that as a yes.
"Stay here," I told Tigger who sat down.
I got up and turned to Zayn who was staring at the scene, "I'll be right back." He nodded and just as I was about to walk away, I said to Zayn, "don't scare him off."
I walked across the street to my house, unlocking the door with the key in my pocket. While walking inside, I ran to the pantry and took out Tigger's food. I opened the can of meat, and walked back out of the house, locking it behind me.
I ran across the street and sat back down against the wall next to Tigger. He immediately grew excited and dived into the food right when I set it down.
I smiled as I watched him eat, petting his head lightly as I did so.
"You have food for him?" Zayn asked. I looked up at him and nodded. "Why? He's a stray, he'll find himself food."
"I love him," I spoke, "he's been coming to my house ever since I was a kid."
Zayn chuckled, taking in a breath of smoke, "you know he's a cat."
"I'm aware of that."
"He could just be using you to get food."
I stood up next to Zayn, "well if that's the case, there are many others he could go to get food from, so why does he come to me?"
Zayn threw his cigarette on the floor, crushing it with his foot which startled Tigger. I glared at Zayn but he didn't seem to mind. "Because you're probably the most vulnerable person he knows, and you'll get him good food."
My stomach twisted at his words. Did Zayn really think I was vulnerable? Was that why he was going out with me? I turned away from him, offended.
He took notice and sighed, "sorry Kat."
"Forget it," I said, "I think I'll just head home for now, I'm not feeling so good."
The thought of Zayn using me really made me feel sick to my stomach. What if he really just thought that I was so vulnerable and he could do whatever he wanted with me?
"Kat," Zayn grabbed my hand and pressed me against him, wrapping his arms around me so that I couldn't escape.
I pushed my hands against his chest, trying to leave his grasp but it was of no use, he was much more stronger than me.
"Listen Kat," he whispered, "I'm just a bit angry, that's all."
"So go be angry alone," I whined, still trying to escape.
He laughed, "but I want to be angry with you."
"Okay fine Zayn," I gave up, "I'm sorry for not eating breakfast with you. I'm sorry for being too thin. I'm sorry for doing a job that you don't like. I'm sorry for talking back to you. I'm sorry for feeding a helpless cat. And I'm sorry for being so vulnerable."
His arms loosened their grip on me and I finally escaped. I backed away but kept my eye contact with him. "I didn't mean to make you upset," he said.
"Well that's what happened," I spoke back, feeling a bit hurt. I there around and began to walk across the street.
"Kat," I heard Zayn call from behind me but I ignored him. Once I opened up my house, I realized Tigger had followed me there. After letting him in and walking inside myself, I shut the door, not caring weather or not Zayn came after me.
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