I rush over to the toilet as the bile rises, I quickly open the lid and with a gag- I empty my stomach. I wipe my tears before heading towards the sink.

That land just...

Fucked me up, once again.

It's been ten minutes since, and I feel absolutely horrible, my heads pounding and the sickness I'm feeling isn't going away.

I wash my face with shaky hands, before squeezing the paste on my finger.

After I'm done brushing, I look up and cringe when I meet my own reflection from the mirror infront of me.

My skin is still deadly pale and I have the same old eye bags and my eyes are just so dull.

Sigh.

I walk over to the door, but it slams open and I stumble a little. I close my eyes as my stomach begins to churn again. Ugh.

"Get out the way."

I open my eyes and meet Kian's blank ones, but when I see the work I did on his face with that marker, I bite the insides of my cheeks- trying to contain my laughter.

His lips curl up into a sneer and he rolls his eyes. "Move." He tries to push me away and my eyes widen.

"Uh, you can't-"

I cut myself off when he full on pushes me back, and I almost lose my footing but I quickly reach up and grab the door handle, pulling myself up.

Fucking bitch.

He makes his way to the mirror and my eyes widen and I quickly stumble out of the room and walk fast towards Killian.

As I near him I notice that he's fast asleep.

I hear a loud roar from the bathroom and I let out a small laugh before hurrying my steps towards Killian.

A loud slam echos through the plane which startles Killian as he jolts awake, his blonde hair falling over his eyes. I quickly sit on the seat next to him.

He rakes his hand through his hair, pushing it back as his sleep-glazed eyes land on Kian who's storming towards us, his face bright red with anger.

"FUCKING BITCH!" he bellows, as he gets closer his dark eyes slitting at me.

"I-I didn't do anything!"

Killian lets out a deep chuckle, before standing up causing Kian to stop abruptly.

"Just go get the stuff, we're leaving in a bit." He tells him with a smirk, as his height towers his.

Kian let's out a low growl before directing his glare to me.

My smile drops when I see them gleam dangerously at me and I gulp.

"Bitch." He spits, before storming away and into a door.

Killian looks down at me, his lips twitching into a smirk. "You look like you're about to shit yourself."

I scowl and poke my tongue out at him, before looking away.

He lets out a chuckle, before taking the seat next to me again.

"Go get your stuff ready."

Suddenly his phone pings, and he fishes it out of his pocket and switches it on.

My face falls as I read the text.

Imagine if we were actually going to stay over their house.

"Where are we going to stay?" I ask, looking up at him.

He nods at his phone and my face falls further.

"Can we stay somewhere else?" A lump forms in my throat. He looks up at me, raising an brow.

"Please."

"No."

I scowl, my cheeks reddening slightly. "Fine." I lift myself off the seat, walking past him.

"Layla." he grabs ahold of my arm and I snatch it away, gritting my teeth.

"I need to put makeup on." I force my voice to be steady as I continue to walk over to my bags.

I don't need them telling me how bad my face looks.

I rampage through the bags trying to find my foundation and groan as my headache increases.

"You don't need makeup, love." I hear Killian's voice behind me and I scowl.

"I don't care." I reply and continue looking for my makeup.

He sighs, not responding, and I take that he walked away.

I stop looking, as tears form in my eyes. Whatever. I furrow my eyebrows and take a deep breath, trying to calm myself down.

"Why do we have to stay with them anyway?" I growl, as I begin to look again.

"They're helping me arrange something." I jump at the closeness of his voice.

He leans down, taking out a brush from one of the bags before leaning back up.

His fingers graze my neck, as he gathers my hair up, raking from the top to the bottom before he then begins to gently brush out the knots.

I furrow my eyebrows, confused. Why's he being so nice?

"You said you were going to be mean to me." I blurt out my thoughts.

He stops brushing for a while and I wait for him to reply, but he doesn't as he then continue to brush. My cheeks bloom red when I realise he just ignored me.

I lean down and continue looking for the makeup.

"That was before I decided to come here." He then says.

My hand freezes and I frown. "What?"

He sighs, as his brushing slows down.

"I knew you wouldn't try anything if we came here."

"What?" I growl.

"Look-"

I turn around and his hand drops to his side.

"Because of my parents?" I grit my teeth and he frowns.

"What?"

My face goes red with rage.

"YOU BROUGHT ME HERE BECAUSE YOU THINK MY PARENTS CAN SORT ME OUT, AND--"

"No I did not, because if there's anyone who can fucking sort you out it's me, so just shut the hell up and stop assuming things!" He snaps, his voice raising after every word. I glare up at him as his cheeks turn slightly red, his eyes no longer soft.

We continue to glare at eachother until the silent atmosphere gets too much, and I look away.

"Whatever." I scowl.

"What I meant was, that your little friends won't be able to rescue you here since they've no idea where you are." He then speaks much calmer.

"And because I know you don't remember their numbers." I snap my eyes up at him, and see that stupid smirk on his face. I narrow my eyes at him, gritting my teeth.

How the hell does he know that?

"You won't have access to anything either and I'll make sure of it since my room will be directly next to yours." His smirk widens. "I won't have to worry about you escaping for the next two years."

My lips part when I register his last few words. Did I hear that right?

Two fucking years?

I'M STUCK WITH MY FAMILY FOR TWO FRICKING YEARS!

"No" I glare at him, looking away as the tears begin to form.

"You don't even need me here!" My lips tremble.

"Of course I need you, love, you need to help me with a few things." He touches my arm but I push it off, angrily, as I look up at him again, my eyes thick with tears.

"Don't fucking touch me!" I yell, as the tears spill down. "I don't care, I'm not doing shit for you! you fucking piece of--"

I flinch when he takes an intimidating step towards me. "Finish that sentence and I'll add another four years to it." His grin drops.

I close my mouth, and grit my teeth as I swallow the painful lump in my throat.

And to think I actually thought he was nice.

Bastard.

I flip my back to him as I begin to look for my foundation tube, the tears continuing to spill. And he scoffs behind me

My hair falls against my wet cheeks, and I roughly shove it under my ear, grinding my teeth together. As I continue to dig my hands deeper into the bags.

"You can forget about the makeup, love. I left it at that ducks house." He taunts me.

I feel the intense anger rush through my veins and I ball my fists up, closing my eyes.

Now I really know he's been stalking me, fricking bitch.

I cover my face as the anger and hurt becomes unbearable. I just miss Donald so much now.

I feel so bad and guilty that I left him like that.

What kind of person am I?

More tears begin to pour down, and I swallow the painful sobs down.

I'm such a horrible person..

Everything's silent now except for my quiet sniffling.

Killian's phone begins to ring, and I remove my hand off my face, as I turn my head slightly, so I can listen to their upcoming conversation.

After three rings he accepts, and I could hear faint talking.

"Give me a few minutes." He replies. I could hear more talking but then it stop abruptly.

"Get your stuff." He orders me and I scoff.

Who the hell does he think he is?

I hear his footsteps walk away and I turn around. I watch him as he walks past the chairs my brush was still in his hand and he rakes it over his own hair- before chucking it on one of the seats, and then entering the bathroom.

"Bitch." I mumble before wiping my tears with my palms.

I grab one of my bags and empty it all over the floor. Before kicking at them.

Where's my fricking hair ties?

I grab another bag and empty it. Nope.

I grab another one and empty it and then squat down, pushing at the stuff.

I find a pack of white ties, picking them up and ripping the pack in two before grabbing one.

I stand back up and tie my hair up into a tight bun. I look at my bags again and grab one of the bags that are stuffed with clothes. I empty it onto the pile and pick out Jack's black hoodie (that I had stolen from him), along with my own plain skinny jeans.

I press the hoodie against my nose, breathing in Jack's aroma which is still strong since I only nicked it a week ago. Tears begin to form as the memories of him flash through my mind, but I force them down.

Stay strong, Layla. Is what he would say..

I take a deep breath, and then step over the pile of my stuff and walk towards the back to change.

The bitch can clean that up later.

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