“Oi, back there, stop eating each other’s face!” The driver yells at Zayn and I. I pull back from him, giggling. My first willing kiss, basically. The first kiss I never had, thanks to Adam. I smile at Zayn and hold his hand until we get to our destination. I try to get a look out the window, but Zayn jerks me back, in a gentle way.
“No peeking, baby.” He gives me a wink, and pulls a black blindfold out of his pocket. Oh, that sneaky little…!
“Ugh. Have I ever told you how much I hate you, Zayn Jawaad Malik?” I huff as he fastens the blindfold around my eyes. He just snickers at my reaction and pulls mo onto his lap as the chauffeur unloads his wheelchair from the back of the car.
“I love you too, babe.” He replies as he tickles me. I feel us making the journey across rough sidewalk, until we open a door which has one of those twinkling bells on them- you know, the sort that tinkle when they move? So I assume we’re going into a shop. As soon as the ringing stops, though, I shiver. It’s bloody cold in here, thank you very much Louis for dressing me in shorts. SHORTS! I struggle with my blindfold, trying to rid myself of it, but as my hands are working the knot, Zayn’s come up and stop them. His hands are really warm. “Let me do it, love.” I sigh and resign to sitting there with my hands in my lap. Seconds later, the blindfold falls off and I gasp.
Hagen Daaz. Zayn took me to Hagen Daaz for our first date.
“How did you know?”
“Know what?” He asks absentmindedly, wheeling his- or “our”- chair up to the counter. I look around expecting the ice cream shop to be bustling- all the ones I go to usually are. Not this one, hum…
“Know how going to an ice cream shop is my dream first date.” He shrugs his shoulders while wheeling. Is that even physically possible? I guess it is now.
“Lucky guess, maybe. Because I didn’t talk to Marie or Belle before taking you out on this date…” I punch him in the arm lightly as he chuckles. Of course he asked them, he’s not some physic person who has the same dream first date as me.
We make our way up to the counter and the man standing behind the register is shaking slightly. Zayn looks unfazed as he orders for himself, and then turns to me.
“Um, some strawberry ice cream would be nice. But could you put a scoop of chocolate to the side?” I ask in what, I hope, comes across in a sweet tone. The man does what I ask, and five minutes later Zayn is holding his mint chocolate chip ice cream cone and I’m holding my glass bowl with my two ice cream scoops: pink and brown. Zayn hands me his cone to free up his appendages. He wheels us over to a small elegant table while I hold his cone and my ice cream glass thingy.
“Thanks, baby.” He tells me, smiling as I hand him his cone and hop off his lap to take me seat across from his portable one. I begin to eat my ice cream, but then something inside me tells me that it’s going to be very uncomfortable if we don’t talk the whole entire time. Just start up a friendly banter, Julianna, it’s not beyond your realm.
“So, Zayn, have you read every single one of the Harry Potter books?” I ask, my mouth curved up in a cocky smile. This is only the five thousandth time I’ve asked him- simply because once we start discussing Harry Potter, conversation flows easily and fluently between us. Thank you, J.K. Rowling.
“Actually, Julianna, I have.” He replies, giving me a wink. Taking a bite of his ice cream, he seems to ponder his next move. Hopefully he’ll ask me something new. “So, what’s your take on Ronald Weasley, our king and the redhead?” I take in a deep breath.
Bingo.
“Zayn, that’s a bug question. Ron’s funny, courageous, and jealous- but I never likes his character. He always seemed a bit pretentious to me, a little too… Overprotective, can you say? I always thought he was jealous of Harry’s fame, money, and wealth- but after all, we can’t have understanding without a little jealousy, eh? Although I do love the way he says bloody hell.” I joke, honestly answering Zayn’s questions. Marie always though Ronald is wonderful- protective, funny, and a redhead- Belle always thought he was too protective. I always thought, and still do think, that he’s too Ronald Weasley. That’s he’s too much of a person everyone dislikes- the annoying and envious third to a trio. But then again, one cannot exist without another, so Ronald will have to say.
“Bloody hell!’ Zayn answers, trying to make an impression of Ronald. It doesn’t work out so well. “I guess you’re right. I always saw Ron as a bit of a jerk, you know, because of the whole Yule Ball thing and how he turned down Parvarti Patel. After that is just seemed to have the whole domino effect; him making out with Lavender Brown when Hermione was obviously infatuated with him. Playing with her feelings, even though he may have been oblivious to them, by acting jealous when she hung out with Krum. Then being so unaware as to the fact that Harry would never betray him, and neither would Hermione, for that matter, and jumping to conclusions when the locket explodes into hideous renditions of fake events. “ He adds in thoughtfully. I nod my head; I agree with him. Ronald always did the wrong things at the wrong time. Honestly, I sort of wished Rowling would’ve killed him off- but that’s just my opinion. Many other Potterheads, like Marie, would absolutely murder J.K. if she ever wrote down the words that described Ron’s death.
Ever.
“Speaking of Hermione, she’s my heroine. Hermione’s smart with a bit off kick ass added in- everything I wanted to be when I grew up.” I smile sadly, knowing that I was never smart and never kicked ass. How do I know?
Adam.
Adam ruins everything, especially people’s dreams.
“I would beg to differ.” Zayn tells me, biting down on his plastic spoon. “I mean, think about it. I’ve never seen you without a book. You read A Midsummer’s Night Dream when you were only nine. Nine. I read Shakespeare when I was sixteen and understood it only when I turned nineteen! And you don’t kick ass?” He lets out a snort as he says this. “I’ve seen you when you’re alone in the gym. You think I don’t, but the truth is I’m a lot more creeper-y than I come off as. I’ve seen you go full-out on the punching bag. I also knew that if you weren’t so afraid of Adam, he would be beaten to a pulp in seconds. Look what you did to that girl who made fun of Aislinn- you punched her in the face. Julianna, you are a very kick-ass and intelligent girl; you just have to learn to brave your evils.” I sighs and straighten up, looking Zayn in the eyes.
“Well, you can help me, you know…” I tell him, leaning across the table to poke him. I shiver slightly, the cold air finally getting to me. Zayn notices and hands me his jacket. “No, Zayn, I can’t--”
“Please, Julianna? It’s the most romantic gesture…” He gives me a wicked smile, and I shake my head. Nevertheless, I pull his jacket on and inhale. It smells like him. Like safety. Like security. … Like love.
But the moment his jacket is on, that’s when the flashes begin.
Click.
Flash.
You bitch you stupid bitch, look who’s here now to hurt you. Look what they’re gonna do.
Click. Click.
Flash.
That’s right, whore. I’m not alone, and we’re going to have fun re-living this moment later. You little good-for-nothing slut.
Click. Click. Click.
Flash.
I whimper, clutching my side. Adam, bringing home friends- his abusive friends- to beat me. The memories washing over me like a storm washes aggressively over a beach- unforgiving. Being chained to a wall. Being taunted. Being hit, over and over.
Click. Click. Click. Click.
Flash.
That’s right, nothing new here. Go for her left leg, Brutus, it doesn’t have enough bruises. Jake, aim for her right arm. Then she won’t be able to write to her dad for at least a month.
“Julianna? Julianna, are you alright?” Zayn’s voice rings in my ears. But I can’t hear him. I can’t feel him as he pulls me into his lap, whispering assuring words into my ear.
I hear Adam.
I feel Adam.
I cringe away from him, crying, falling to the floor. The flashes increase. Adam hits me again. Then Jake hits me- then Brutus. Now I’m rolling on the floor, crying, being called a bitch and slut and slag and whore and being hit over and over and over I just wish it would stop.
Please stop.
A warm hand grabs mine. It pulls me up. I’m snuggled into something warm. Something secure and that has the faint fragrance of love. I can see a light, a steady light. No flashes, please, no flashes.
There are no flashes.
Don’t stop.
Please, don’t.
I need you.
I love you.
“I love you.”

Notes

hehe :3
~Mallery