You Stole My Heart

You Stole My Heart Ch. 14

“Hi.” He whispered when I opened the door.

“Hi.” I said in the same tone, both of us looking over each other like we were making sure the weeks apart didn't totally harm us. “Come in.” I added, stepping back to drop his gaze and open the door more. I ran my fingers through my hair as he did and I shut the door behind him, staring at him as he turned to me. “Um, did you want some tea or something?” I asked softly, him steping closer.

“Catalina.” He whispered, taking my hand away from my hair, intertwining our fingers. “Love relax.” He squeezed my hand and I looked away. “I haven’t seen you like this ever.” He whispered, continuing to stare at me as I avoided his gaze.

“You haven’t because we've never been in this kinda situation.” I finally looked up at him when his hand was on my waist, us closer than before.

“Were just talking.” He whispered and I shook my head.

“I'm asking questions and your giving me answers I'm not sure I want to hear.” I whispered in the same tone. “It’s not just talking Zayn, not tonight.” He sighed, rolling his lips in his mouth.

“I don't like this.” He whispered. “I don't like what she’s done to us, what she’s having you think about.”

“It’s not just her, it our families, it’s the media twisting everything around like we always do. Its seeing your face everywhere I look with hers right beside it.” I took a deep breath, looking between us at our feet.

“I'm sorry.” I looked up at him. “I don't think I’ve said it once this whole time.” He murmured, shaking his head. “I'm really sorry for everything thing I’ve done to you in the last month.”

“God it’s only been a month?” I whispered, him bringing me closer.

“I know.” He whispered, squeezing my hip causing me to look up at him. He wanted to say more, I knew he did, but I had to pull away and nod, giving him a weak smile before I looked behind him.

“Do you want to go sit?” I asked softly and he hesitated but nodded, watching me and following me into the living room. “I don't know where to start.” I said softly, running my fingers through my hair and he placed his hand on my knee causing me to look at him.

“Do you want me to just tell you what happened?” I hesitated but nodded and he sighed, hesitating before looking at his feet. “My parents asked me to come home because they knew I had some time off. And while I was there we met with a lawyer and he told me what my parents had already practically decided. If I wasn't married or in a committed relationship of a year and a half by the time I was 22 I would be in an arranged marriage of some sorts.” He shook his head. “I wanted to tell them, everything about us. But I knew we didn't really want that, at least not like that.” He looked at me. “They knew about mystery girl, and they knew that I was with someone, but it wasn't for a year and a half even though it was committed, very committed.” He squeezed my hand and I gave him a weak smile. “They told me I had to marry whoever they picked. And I blew up on them, and I’ve had to come and go back for weeks for legal bullshit concerning your family. I didn't know about Shay, I didn't know you were related, even if you weren’t related I would still be fighting for you, you know that don't you?”

“I think so.” I said softly, nodding and meeting his gaze and he sighed.

“Fuck Catalina.” He whispered a few minutes later, running his fingers through his hair. “Fuck all of this.”

“Zayn.” I whispered, placing my hand on his knee, hoping to stop him before he started.

“Why can’t I be happy?” he asked me. “Why do I have to work so hard to watch my words so I don't upset the fans, why do I have to watch where I step and sneak around with my girlfriend so the media doesn’t see and report it? Why can’t I do one thing for me? Why do I have to put everyone before myself?” I scooted closer, wrapping my arms around one of his, taking his hand in both of mine and looking up at him. “The guys, my family, your family, you, the fans, the media, and then at the bottom of the bottom is me. I don't mind it being you first, or the guys, or my family, it’s all the other bull shit that needs to be after me. I'm so sick of this.” He ran his hand through his hair. “Why can’t I just have you?” he whispered, turning to me. “I just want you, and a house, and the guys and touring and doing what I love without anyone caring about what they want and what they think I need.” His hand squeezed mine and we held eye contact. “I need you.” He shook his head. “That all I care about. I don't care about how much of my money she’s wasting on this wedding. I don't care that were on every magazine and I'm followed everywhere. I care that you’re here and biting your tongue and watching it all. I care that you hate me, you hate this wedding. I care that I ruined us.”