Page 69 of Sweet Anarchy

"How's your head now?" I ask, changing the topic as I touch the skin under the gash on his hairline.

"Better now that you gave me some of your Mom's painkillers. Doesn't hurt a bit," he grins.

I glance over him, concerned. His face is bruised, but you'd never know he was even hurt if it wasn't for the visibility of his injuries.

I still haven't had a chance to chat to him alone. I've been desperate to talk about what happened, but I've been waiting for the right moment. I look over at the other three, giving them knowing glances.

"Could you guys give us some privacy for a bit?"

They nod, standing up. I watch as they head out of the room, leaving Zayn and I alone on the bed.

"Ready to jump me already?" Zayn laughs.

I smack his chest playfully. "I'm not having sex with you. I just wanted to talk."

"Damn," he mutters. "You don't need to walk on eggshells around me. I'm fine, I promise."

Sitting up, I cross my legs, facing him. "I know you are," I say softly. "But I can't stop thinking about the fight."

Zayn chuckles. "You think that was a fight, babe? You were just a bit upset from all the stress. I wasn't fazed at all. I was just worried about you."

"I said some pretty horrible things," I murmur.

"Nah, you didn't. I knew you were just stressed. We're fine, I completely promise."

I nod, not feeling entirely better about the whole situation.

Zayn sits up, digging into his pants under the blanket. "In fact, I have something for you."

My eyebrows shoot up. "Is it your dick? Because I'm still not fucking you right now. You might have a concussion."

"I'm glad to know you think my cock is a gift. But no," he pauses, pulling out something and hiding it in his hand. He reaches over with his other hand, grabbing mine. "Close your eyes."

I frown, squeezing my eyes shut. I wait for him, feeling him open my hand and turn it palm-up. Something light gets placed on my palm and he tells me to open my eyes.

I glance down at my hand, eyes widening at the closed ring box. "Zayn?" I ask, unsure.

He opens the box up, my eyes poised on the piece of jewelry inside.

Inside the box there's a ring with a sapphire stone. The light blue rock shimmers in the light, the silver band shiny.

"What… what is this?" I mutter, a little panicky.

Zayn plucks the ring out with his fingers, closing the box and putting on the blanket beside us. "It's not what you think," he laughs. He lifts my right hand, sliding the ring onto my index finger.

"It's just a gift," he says casually. "A promise that I'll always be yours. You deserve something shiny, because that's what you do for all of us. You shine bright."

I hold my hand up, inspecting the ring. It's so beautiful that it takes my breath away. I don't think I've ever had a piece of jewelry this nice.

"It's beautiful," I tell him, softly. "Thank you."

Zayn leans down, kissing the top of my hand. "You're so special to all of us, especially to me. I love you so much."

"I love you too," I mumble, pushing onto my knees to hug him. He wraps his arms around me, squeezing me tight.

"Now, stop thinking I'm mad at you. I'm just disappointed I didn't make it to the funeral," he mutters into my hair. "And I'm so fucking lucky you came and found me. Though, only you would do something so stupid like that."

I pull back, rubbing my neck sheepishly. "Probably wasn't the brightest idea, but I have no regrets. I would run into a thousand burning buildings for you – for any of you."

---