Saving Grace

I took the cigarette from my lips and blew out a ring of smoke while staring at the dark haired beauty who stood across from me. My arms were crossed and his cigarette hung between my fingers. It was quiet, I think he was still pissed at me. God I hated when he did shit like this.

“So are you going to speak to me yet or am I still not worth your time?” I asked him licking my lips and never breaking my gaze. I knew why he was pissed, I knew what he wanted, and I also knew that it wouldn’t happen. I wasn’t about to apologize to him for him being a dick. If anything he should be apologizing to me for being a dick but I knew that wouldn’t happen either. Because Zayn Malik didn’t say sorry, sometimes I didn’t even think the word sorry was in his vocabulary.

“Aspen” his voice was breathy and I had to look away for a moment.

“Don’t you dare,” I told him feeling the air thicken around us, and my throat constricting. God when he did shit like this I wanted to punch him so hard in the face that he’d cry. Maybe if I could make him cry at least once over the shit he did he’d understand why I hated him for making me cry.

“This isn’t my fault! You were being a dick! Because you’re always being a dick! This is fucking insane Zayn!”

“My God Aspen you fucking piss me off. How was I being a dick this time? Please enlighten me because I would love to know what I’ve done now. I mean if I remember correctly all I did was punch a douche in the face while he tried to fucking put his hands on you! What’s so wrong about that? What’s so wrong with me not wanting anyone else to touch you?!”

I ran my hand over my face and threw his cigarette at him.

“You have no fucking right. You have no Goddamn right to go around punching people because they put their hands on me. We’re not fucking dating anymore. You lost me and that’s that. Yet you show up everywhere and get all sorts of angry and punch people because you’re pissed off that they’re with me and it isn’t you. What you did this time is what you do every fucking time. And I fucking hate it, just as much as I fucking hate you!”

He was touching me, his lips were on my neck and his hands were on my hips pulling my body flush against his. He was toxic. He would piss me off knowing I’d piss him off and then he’d have his way with me. It didn’t matter where we were, it didn’t matter what time it was. To Zayn, nothing mattered other than having the last word and knowing that he still had some kind of hold on me. I didn’t love him. Not anymore. Really I didn’t know if I’d ever truly loved him. And I didn’t believe him for a second when he told me he loved me. Because people who love you don’t treat you like shit, yet they’re the ones we run after. The ones who claim to love us but can’t possibly because if they did they wouldn’t treat us the way they do, those are the ones we run after. Those are the ones we get addicted to until someone helps us. And the person who’d help me wasn’t someone I was expecting.

He was beautiful in a manner than Zayn wasn’t.

Zayn was beautiful in looks but not quite personality. Liam was beautiful in looks and personality.

Liam knew how to love, he knew how to comfort, and just be there for a person when they needed him most. He knew the right things to say and had the best gift to offer when I’d need it most, a shoulder to cry on and an ear to listen. Liam was sweet, he was caring, and he was the perfect boy. Guys like Liam are rare, they’re the diamonds. They’re the guys who still believe in chivalry and will say I’m sorry even if they know they’re right. They’re the ones who want to make others happy even if it means their own unhappiness. They’re the ones who deserve to be happy.

Liam would be the one to free me from Zayn.