Zane

The floor gives way beneath my feet. The music turns to a roar, the lights dissolve into mush. Panic overwhelms me: what the hell did they slip you?

Just when your knees give way, familiar arms wrap around your waist. Zayn. He pulls you into him, holding you aloft. Through the haze, you see his pale, frightened face, his chest heaving—he's been running.

“Your mother,” he breathes out hoarsely.

He hugs you tighter, burying his face in your neck.

"Idiot... a cocky idiot," he whispers, his breath tickling my skin. "Do you even understand what could have happened?"

There is no coldness in his voice - there is rage, fear and relief.

"Thinking of running away from me?" His fingers dig into his jacket. "I searched the whole city. Every street. I thought I'd find you in a ditch..."

He falls silent, pressing his forehead to his temple. You feel his hands tremble.

“You’re such a fool,” he whispers. “Such a fool.”

He grabs you under the knees, pressing you to his chest. People part—there's a deadly determination in his gaze.

The last thing you remember before darkness falls is his broken whisper:

"We'll talk at home. Now just breathe. I'll always get you out of here, you little idiot."