Skinny Love

The infamous duo stayed in a family owned hotel on the outskirts of Zayn’s native city. The whole night, Zayn apologized for his father’s actions and tried to comfort Jessica. No matter how many times she said she was fine, Zayn saw the dullness in her eyes. He saw the damage that was done. When he told her how much he loved her, he didn’t see that twinkle in her eye that ignited his senses. He saw a pit of nothingness as she repeated the words back to him as if she was on auto pilot. While he had no doubt that she loved him, he had no clue what she was thinking. Previously in their relationship, they could tell you what the other was thinking and feel each other’s pain without question. It was moments like these that he wished he could go back in time and get that connection back. Everything was moving so fast and he wasn’t sure how she felt. She wanted to marry him, no questions asked, but the guilt was getting at her.

As Zayn drifted off to sleep, Jessica scanned through her Twitter mentions and a couple of emails. Most were the gays congratulating her for her relationship, but there were a couple calling her nasty names and telling her how she didn’t deserve him. Truthfully, she never believed that she did. It felt as if they were only confirming her beliefs. The death threats, the disapproval, the hate broke her into even more pieces than before. She gazed down at the ring, the ring that she waited forever for. Was it the right time? She logged off of Twitter and sat in a trance. Jessica read through her emails and saw that she was due to France the day after the next. She emailed her assistant back, desperately trying to escape the hell that she was in psychologically.

jessicamp@alexandermcqueen.com

How about I arrive a little early?

jeremiahcastillo@alexandermcqueen.com

The next flight is in two hours.

jessicamp@alexandermcqueen.com

Pack my bags and send them to the penthouse. I’ll be at the airport in an hour.

jeremiahcastillo@alexandermcqueen.com

What about Zayn?

There was no reply that time. She looked at the sleeping face next to her and tried to think of what was best for him. His family was his everything and she wasn’t going to be in the way of them. It hurt her so much as she wrote him a note and slid the ring off of her finger.

She just couldn’t do it; not this time.

She slipped out of the bed and Zayn stirred a little.

“Where are you going?”

“Bathroom.”

He could almost hear the tears caught in her throat, but he brushed it off with the fact that she was tired. He went back to sleep with a little nod of his head. She grabbed her belongings and slipped out the hotel door. The pressure in the back of her eyes released itself and the tears accompanied them as she stepped further into the night. She was still in her attire from earlier that day and she hoped that no one spoke to her as she entered her first class flight. She was clearly in no mood to talk. She just hoped that Zayn would understand her reasoning by the time morning came.

As the light shone through the small hotel room, Zayn felt the emptiness by his side and jumped up. He knew all too well what it was like to not have her by his side. She could have been downstairs, she could have been in the bathroom, but the stillness in the air gave away her absence. She wasn’t in his presence and he immediately wondered what he did. It had to be his fault. He thought that she went to his parent’s house and possibly beg his father to like her, she’d done it before. It wasn’t until he saw the glare of the ring glow in his peripheral vision that he shook his head.

No, no, no, no, he thought.

He denied everything in his head. It all had to be some nightmare and Jessica was laying by his side. There was no way that she left him.

She loved him.

In some odd sense, he knew it wasn’t a dream. The heartbreak just felt all too real. He read the note that she attached to the ring and drowned in sorrow with every word.

Baby, I can’t do this.

I know how much your family means to you and I shouldn’t even compare to what they hold in your heart. We always thought of Preston as the problem, but your father never liked me so much either. He’s a key component in your life and I don’t want to take that away from you. I love you so much and I never want you to question this. No one at this point really wants us together. Your fans are having heart attacks by the second, your father doesn’t, management doesn’t; I have no idea what I did for all these people to disapprove of us.

I’m so sorry that it had to end this way, I just need you to be happy no matter how that’s achieved. I just think that right now, you’d be happier without me.

-Jessica

He could see the small crinkled areas where her tears dropped as she wrote it. He ran his fingers across those areas and let his fall as well, that was the closest he was getting to her at that point. As he read it he became outraged that people could cause such a rift in their relationship. People were the reason that he couldn’t love her. He made a vow to himself a long time ago; she wouldn’t get away that easily.

Meanwhile, Jessica sat at the Chanel fashion house as her friends there talked to her; well, attempted. She sat wordless, maybe a simple nod, but she wasn’t in the mood to give anything away. When she walked in, they had all seen the article in SugarScape with her holding Zayn’s hand. They all congratulated her, but they had no clue. Many of them even went on to call her ‘Mrs. Malik’ and it was like a bullet through her head. She excused herself every so often and cried in the bathroom. She sat with her knees clutched to her chest until Jeremiah came in. He didn’t even ask questions, he just held her. She wanted so badly not to regret her decision, but it was so hard. She was so in love with him, but she couldn’t be the reason he was shunned from his family. Jer held her and rocked back and forth with her. He hummed to her softly a Spanish lullaby and it calmed her down a little. All she wanted at the point was Zayn.

“You did this!” Zayn yelled at his father as he held the ring and letter in his hands.

“You fucking made her leave.”

His father sat there dumbfounded as his only son stood in his house telling him how the love of his life walked out of his life due to his insensitive actions.

“Son…”

“No, you listen to me this time. I brought her here because she wanted to make sure that you were okay with this. If it was up to me, she would already be a part of this family. This was her idea. You told her to get out of your house because she wasn’t a Muslim like us. She considered converting when we left just so you wouldn’t be mad at me. Now she’s gone.”

Zayn collapsed on the floor and cried into his knees. He cried and cried until his father came up behind him and rubbed his back.

“Go get her back, son.” His Pakistani accent fluttered through Zayn’s ears.

This was his approval.

Zayn hugged his father and thanked him repeatedly before running out of the door and dialing on his cell phone.

He called Jeremiah immediately, still wiping the residue off of his face from his previous actions.

“Hello.” Jeremiah spoke quietly, muffled noises in the background.

“Where is she?” Zayn was ready to leave at any second. He heard a door shut in the phone.

“Zayn?”

“Yes. I just need to get her back, please help me.” Zayn hated to sound desperate, but this was the one time that he didn’t care.

“Zayn, maybe you guys should take a little break. She’s really messed up right now.”

“Jeremiah. I’ve waited too long. I can’t do with another day without her.”

“Zayn, she’s really hurting.”

“And you don’t think I am? I don’t know who the fuck I am without her.”

“Please, just give her the day to at least gather herself. We’re in Paris, but that’s all I’ll give you for now.”

“Thank you, Jeremiah. You don’t know what this means.”

“Please, don’t hurt her again.”

“Promise.”

With that, Zayn was off to Paris. It was Paris Fashion Week, so it was crowded and the only available hotel rooms were in a sketchy side of town across from a local bar. Zayn wasn’t one to really be a complainer, but something just didn’t feel right. He almost felt it before it happened. He was walking to the bar, across from his hotel, carrying the only thing he brought from Bradford.

The ring.

There was a gang of guys outside of the bar, obviously drunk. He attempted to walk past them, but they saw his clothing and immediately tried to get at him. They spoke in French, so he wasn’t really sure what they were saying to him. He’d been there plenty of times, but never picked up on the language. He was raised in Bradford, though. He knew what they were doing as two of the men grabbed him and felt around for his wallet.

“Let me go! Let go of me!” He screamed helplessly into the air.

The man on his right, reached into his pants and pulled out the ring. Zayn yanked and pulled until he grabbed the ring back. The men weren’t letting up, though. They fought back with force, but Zayn wasn’t going down without a fight.

“Take anything but this!”

He threw his wallet at them, not caring of the money, He just needed the ring.

The men were pushed to their limits and the man on his left reached behind him. There was a small click into the air and Zayn knew what was coming.

Boom!