It's 1 o' clock in the morning and I'm in bed all alone. Why? Because my boyfriend Zayn freaking Malik is out partying... Again. I rolled out of bed and put on my house shoes before I headed downstairs. I had just put a kettle on the stove when Zayn staggered in.

"Hey babe, why are you still up?" He slurred as he tried to kiss me on the cheek but I pulled away.

"Waiting for you. Why do you always come home so late?" I glared at him.

He groaned and ran his fingers through his blond quiff, "Why do we have to talk aboutthis everytime I go out? Damn, why are you so clingy?"

I took the kettle off the stove and poured the hot water into a cup with a herbal tea bag in it. This was the new normal for us, "I wouldn't have to be clingy if I saw you for more than three hours a day."

"It's not my fault I'm famous, it's something you need to get used too." He snapped at me.

I snapped my head up, "YOU KNOW WHAT, YOU NEED TO GET USED TO BEING HERE! When was the last time we slept in the same bed together? Eaten dinner together? Or even had a conversation that didn't end in a fight?" I took a sip of my tea and cursed under my breath as it burned my tongue.

"What'd you call me?" His voice angry.

I sighed as I blew my tea, "Nothing, I'm going to bed."

I started to walk out of the kitchen when I heard him call me a bitch under his breath.

I whirled around and stormed back into the kitchen, "LEAVE."

"Fine, I'm done. I'm not coming back." He stormed out of the kitchen and out of the flat. He slammed the door behind him.

I ran to the bedroom with tears streaming down my face and began to run amuck. I tore down pictures, hit walls, and threw clothes around the room before I broke down in tears. I curled up in a ball and somehow drifted to sleep. I woke up to my phone going off. I looked over at the lit up screen and saw that I had 64 text messages, 24 missed calls, and 35 voicemail. All from Zayn. I got up to take a shower and let the hot water run over my numb body. I walked out the bathroom to see a very shock Zayn, from both my nudity and the broken room.

"I thought you weren't coming back." I said coldly as I grabbed a pair of underwear from the floor and shook out some broken glass before putting it on. I walked around him to the turned over dresser and took out a house dress.

"Where's my stuff?" He asked nonchalant.

I just shook my head, "It's in the closet. Don't worry none of your things were ruined." I put an emphasis on the last part as I began to pick up broken glass, only to be stopped by Zayn's hands lifting me up and carrying me downstairs.

He sat me down on the couch before heading out of the room again. He came back five minutes later with a first aid kit, a couple of Advil's, and a glass of water. He took out a cotton swab, poured some alcohol on it, and began to wipe the cuts that the broken glass had made and apologized every time I flinched. He examined my swollen and bruised knuckles before wrapping a cool cloth around both of my hands. Next he gave me the Advil's and took back the glass of water when I was finished. He started to say something but I closed my eyes and lay down on the couch, my back facing him. I must've drifted off to sleep because I was woken up by a gentle shake.

"(Y/N) come with me please." Zayn's eyes pleading.

I sighed as I stood up and followed him into our bedroom. When he opened the door I gasped in shock. The room was clean, the walls were patched up, and rose petals were everywhere.

"Look (Y/N) I know I've been a jerk lately and I know I've neglected you but if you give me one more chance I promise I'll change for you. Please be my girl again?"

I thought about it for a moment before I realized that he was being sincere and that he really did love me. I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed his earlobe, "Of course."