Secrets | Zayn Malik

» [33] Are we? «

december 9 
early in the morning 

I sat up straight in bed, my entire back covered in sweat. Placing my hand over my mouth I jumped out of bed so quick and in seconds made it to the luxurious bathroom, my chin on the toilet seat before I threw up what I had eaten the night before. Not even thirty seconds later I felt fingers wrap around the ends of my hair, pulling the strands back before his hand sat at the middle of my back rubbing in a circular motion.
"I knew you shouldn't had eaten that last night," he mumbled softly.
I rolled my eyes as I kept my lids shut, frowning before I heaved up just stomach acid this time. "I'm not allergic to carbs, Zayn," I said softly, annoyed that the only thing I could do right now was blame it on the stupid pasta we had at dinner last night when obviously it was something else.
"I didn't say you were, Maci. I'm just saying it seemed like a lot of food all at once."

I breathed in deeply and opened my eyes, pausing for a second or so before I was sure I was through with the process. Reaching up I pushed the handle down to flush the toilet and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand before slowly standing up with Zayn's help. He helped me over to the sink as the jets from the jacuzzi hushed down to a whisper from the back corner of the bathroom. I placed my hands in the white marble sink, the automatic switch turning on the faucet and the warm water running down my fingers.

"Are you alright?" I took this time to glance at the two people standing just on the other side of the mirror, the man beside her looking as handsome as ever and the girl standing beside him with bags underneath her eyes, her nose red and her lips a little swollen. I smacked my lips together as he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear before placing a soft kiss on the side of my neck. His breath was warm and his lips were so soft and so badly I wanted to fall into him but kept my stance. 
"Yeah, might be food poisoning or something," I lied as I focused my attention onto my hands knowing fully well there was a one hundred percent chance he would catch my bluff without trying very hard.
In a worry he put some space between us and slid just beside me to look me in the eye. "You wanna go to the doctor?"
I swallowed hard as I reached for the soap, mentally thinking that yes I should probably go just to make sure those tests weren't incorrect and my mind was just psyching itself and my body to assume I actually held some form of life inside me. Rubbing the scented hand soap in between my fingers I shrugged as the water stopped running briefly. "If it gets any worse."
I continued to wash my hands as he said nothing for a few minutes and I was walking out of the bathroom at this point, my hair up in a half assed ponytail before I slid back into the sheets and underneath the comforter. Without obliging Zayn took up the other side of the bed, his hand touching mine softly before he pulled it away without hesitating. I turned to look at him and despite how dark it was in the room, I could see him entirely, his figure sort of glowing against the shadows in the room as he sat against the headboard, his hand tucked underneath his head as he lifted his chin high, his eyes open and blinking every few seconds while he stared blankly at the ceiling. For a moment I followed his gaze and wondered what could be so interesting up there until he broke the silence.

"I feel like we need to talk," he said.
I sighed as my stomach rumbled and mentally tried to convince myself to keep it down and not to get out of bed to throw up again. "What time is it?"
"Five thirty."
Zayn kept very still as he breathed in and out slowly. My gaze followed his hairline down all the way to his jaw, slowly creeping to his neck and the veins that popped out underneath his skin, his adams apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed. "You want to talk now, Zayn? After I just threw up in the bathroom?"
He nodded his head then slightly shrugged his shoulders afterwards and I frowned at this, trying to think of what the hell he had to tell me at five in the morning. "I said I feel like we need to."
And I feel like I need to throw up again but I'm going to sit still because I'm fucking tired, is what I wanted to tell him but said something else. "What do we need to talk about?"
"What do you think, Maci?"
"Why does it matter what I think?"