Tasting the Devil's Tears

"Zayn, quit it!"

Mila snorted rather unattractively as he continued to feather his hands up and down her sides. He merely shook his head and continued on. She laughed loudly and struggled to push his hands away, and once Zayn saw her struggling to breathe, he finally stopped. They both were out of breath, it seemed, and they sat back in the bed to continue lazing around all day.

Mila looked over at Zayn and smiled softly. He looked beautiful, like always, with perfect hair and sparkling eyes. Mila was a bit jealous at how well he looked all the time. Zayn never looked ugly.

He must have sensed her staring because he looked over at her with a smirk on his lips, asked her what was going through her mind. She merely shrugged, told him it was nothing, and kissed him back when he rested his lips on hers.

Mila always loved kissing Zayn, always savored it. She had been waiting fifteen years to kiss him and it definitely measured up to her expectations. However, there was always a shadow of doubt hanging around, and Mila knew where it was coming from, though she didn't like to admit it.

Something happened to Zayn Malik the day he broke up with his previous girlfriend. During, he used to smile almost all the time, and had even cut back on smoking. He was more energetic in interviews and at concerts, and even sang more than he usually did. But now? Mila saw a whole pack, sometimes two, being emptied by him in just one day. And it took real effort to smile.

A few weeks after Zayn asked Mila out, he promised the world. And, having been in love with him since day one, Mila was more than willing to accept. What girl wouldn't want Zayn Malik's world?

But was it as fulfilling as it was supposed to be? No. Yeah, it was a fantastic night that Mila was never going to forget. But had Zayn really done it because he loved her? Probably not. They loved each other, but not in the way Mila had wanted, had hoped.

Zayn was settling. There was no question to it. He was settling because the girl he was in love with didn't want to be with a boy who was gone the majority of the year. So, he took the next best thing: His best friend.

He wasn't fully happy with Mila, and every day Mila lived with the nagging feeling that she had been keeping him from his one true love because she wanted to be that girl. She just didn't want to let go.

A flash of blue eyes and strawberry blond hair flashed before her eyes, and Mila felt like crying. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. She and Zayn were supposed to be completely happy in the relationship. And when was Zayn the happiest? When he was with Aimee.

"Whoa, Mila, what's wrong?" His eyebrows were furrowed together with worry as he looked down at her.

"You're not happy, are you?" she asked softly, and Zayn sighed deeply as he ran a hand through his dark hair.

“Don’t ask me that, Mila,” he mumbled, and Mila could see his emotions rising. Once upon a time, she used to absolutely hate making Zayn upset and would do anything in her power to prevent it. She hadn’t wanted to upset the boy she loved just in case that at one point, he would leave her and never talk to her again.

But now times were different, and Mila wasn’t the naïve fifteen year old she once was. She wasn’t afraid to stand up to Zayn Malik anymore. She wasn’t afraid to get hurt herself if it meant making Zayn happy. “No, Zayn. Tell me. Are you happy? Honestly?”

There was a long pause, and Mila already knew the answer before she even asked. It hurt, oh God, did it hurt. But what else was she supposed to feel? Happiness because the boy she knew she loved wasn’t happy with her, but with another girl? No, she hated it. She felt like bawling her fucking eyes out and lying in bed for days. But she couldn’t tell Zayn that because she knew Zayn. She knew Zayn would do anything for her happiness, and would stay with her if it made her happy. She couldn’t do that to him. She’d rather die. So she took a deep breath, grabbed the boy’s phone from right in front of her, and handed it over with a shaking hand. She couldn’t believe she was doing this, but she knew she had to. For Zayn. “Call her right now.”

“You’re mad, Mila-“

“Damn it, Zayn Malik, if you don’t call that girl up right now to get back together with her I will,” she said firmly, and yeah, she meant it. She didn’t want to do it really, but she would do it. She just wanted to see Zayn truly happy again. She hated seeing his fake smiles.

Zayn looked at her for a long time, probably thinking it all through, and finally, finally, grabbed the phone from her hand as he leaned his lips next to her ear. “You are my absolute best friend, Mila Carmichael, and I’ll always love you.” He kissed the side of her head then, lingered for a few seconds before pulling back to stand up and walk in the next room. A few seconds later, Mila heard him say, “Aimee? Hey, it’s Zayn.” She stopped listening then. She knew what was going to happen, didn’t need to listen to find out.

So she grabbed her things, and shut the door softly behind her. A weight was lifted off her shoulders as she walked home that night. The weight of Zayn’s internal pain had finally been released from her. She was no longer regretting keeping him to herself, and Zayn was no longer settling with her. She didn’t want Zayn to settle, to compromise. She wanted him to be happy, and he was with Aimee.

It hurt, walking away like that, but she already knew that. And it would for a while. But, if it wasn’t meant to be, she knew she’d get over it eventually. Heartache like this didn’t last forever.