Runaway (A Zayn Malik fanfiction)

Chapter 35 ♡

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.