ISLA'S POV
Magnificent
The only word that popped up in my brain as I adored the opulent interior of Central High. The high ceilings were adorned with chandeliers that scattered golden light all over the marble floors. Every corner of Central High seemed drenched with power and privilege.
Sasha guided me through Central High. The library was so large that if you went missing there, you would be devoured in silence, your screams buried in the darkness, unheard. The pools resembled the ones you see in Olympics , and the cafeteria served practically every type of fast food and gourmet food imaginable.
" By the way,what are you pursuing?" Sasha questioned stopping in midway.
" Fashion Designing. What about you?" I replied by fixing my clothes. I was wearing a tailored black blazer over a high-neck blouse, paired with a pleated plaid skirt, sheer tights, and polished oxford shoes.
"Law. Your class is that way. I'll meet you after class. Bye," Sasha murmured, pointing toward a classroom before turning and leaving me alone, surrounded by a bunch of judgmental eyes staring at me as if I were some sort of alien.
As I stepped into the class,I was a bit surprised to see a bunch of girls sitting on the tables,wearing almost nothing.
Wow!Judgy much.
Shaking off my intrusive thoughts,I focused on them. They were staring at me as if they wanted to burn me alive. Their faces looked familiar. Wait—They are the Royals.
A blonde girl with hazel-brown eyes and freckles came toward me, her face laced with a stern look.
She snarled " So you are the new poor orphan girl Isla Ashcroft".
Before I could even react, she slapped me hard. "That's for looking at my Zayn. Stay away from him, bitch, or I'll make your life a living hell." I could taste blood in my mouth, the sharp, metallic flavor spreading across my tongue.Rage surged through me, and I slapped her back, my hand moving instinctively. The once laughing girls now stopped , their expressions shifting into seriousness.
As I came back to my senses, I realized what I had done. Fuck you, Isla. I probably should've just walked away, but now I have started a war.
The girl in front bumped me and I fell hard to the ground, the knock the wind out of me. They just kept kicking me you know, I was surrounded by the gang, and each kick would pierce my skin like a heel. I cried out, the sensation burning my core, but I was met with chilling laughter. They spat at me, each rotten act just a reminder of how low they could descend, and then those forceful hits just felt like daggers to my soul.
Suddenly, the door flew open, and there stood Zayn. His eyes were wide with disbelief, but underneath that, there was a simmering rage, his veins nearly bulging as he clenched his fists. He shoved the blonde girl aside, striking her sharply across the face, his voice low and menacing. Then, he scooped me up in his arms, holding me tightly against his chest, his body rigid with fury as he shot glares at anyone who dared to glance my way.
The anger in his eyes was replaced by worry. I could feel people staring at me with nothing but shock and confusion. Maybe jealousy too!
Zayn carried me into the doctor's room, his grip around me tightening as if he couldn't bear to let go. A male doctor in his mid-40s stood waiting, but as soon as he took a step toward us, Zayn's expression turned fierce. His voice dropped to a low growl, filled with possessiveness. "No need to touch her," he said, his words heavy with protectiveness. "I'll take care of her myself." His arms wrapped around me even tighter, as if he was the only one capable of keeping me safe, his eyes locked onto mine, revealing a dangerous blend of concern and obsession.
The doctor hurried out of the room, clearly unnerved by the fierce look Zayn shot him, leaving just the two of us. Zayn opened the first-aid kit, his hands careful as he began to tend to my wounds. A sharp breath escaped me as the antiseptic made contact with my skin, and I noticed Zayn's expression shift to one of concern.
"It'll sting for a bit, but I'll take care of it," he said softly, his voice calming as he continued his work, his touch gentle and deliberate.
I flinched but met his gaze, feeling a swirl of emotions. "Zayn, you didn't have to slap her," I murmured, my tone quiet yet resolute. "I can handle it. You didn't need to do that."
Zayn hesitated for a moment, his eyes locked on mine. His jaw tightened, but he spoke with a steady voice, "I won't allow anyone to hurt you. Not while I'm here." His fingers lightly traced the bandage on my arm, and for a brief moment, it felt like the outside world had faded away—just the two of us, wrapped in this serene space where nothing could harm us.
Once he finished his work, his eyes remained locked on mine, as if he were trying to commit every detail of my face to memory. I could sense the intensity of his gaze, a warmth washing over me despite the pain still lingering. "Th-thanks," I managed to say, my voice trembling, unsure why those words felt so hard to express. There was something in the way he looked at me that sent my heart racing, a blend of gratitude and something deeper that I couldn't quite identify.
My eyes popped wide open, ready to pop out of their sockets. It was already 9. I fucking missed my first class. I jumped off the examination table, but my legs gave way, and I stumbled straight into Zayn, who caught me effortlessly. My hands landed on his chest, the warmth of his body sending a jolt through me.
"Careful," he whispered, his voice low, his hands firm on my waist as he steadied me.
I jerked my hands back quickly, embarrassed. "I'm so sorry, I—"
"Shh." He stopped me, his eyes piercing as he looked down at me. "You're not going anywhere. You need to rest." His tone didn't allow for argument, and I knew there was no use in trying to protest.
"But—"Before I could even complete he said. "No buts," Zayn said, his voice final. "You're going back to your room and resting. I'll handle everything else." His eyes softened for a brief moment, but the command in his voice was unyielding, making it clear that he wasn't giving me a choice.
He picked me up as if I weighed nothing and walked all the way to my dorm. "How do you know where my dorm is?" I questioned. Oh, fuck! Did I just say that out loud?
I closed my eyes, not ready to face the embarrassment, but what he said shocked me to the core.
"I know a lot about you, Dove," he murmured. His voice was deep, the kind that sent electric currents throughout my body as my already wet core dripped more.
He placed me on my bed and left without even giving me an opportunity to say thanks, closing the door behind him.
I fell onto my bed, closing my eyes as I mumbled to myself, "What a day..."