I'd never considered myself a curious person. The few things that often plagued my thoughts were usually food, my mother's well being and surviving the blistering cold nights without freezing to death.

Curiosity was a luxury I'd never entertained. I barely knew my neighbours, work mates, nor the town's people in general. Knowing these people had never put food on the table so I never bothered.

However, for the past few weeks I'd developed a hunger that could not be satiated with food. It started with a mild ache in the pit of my stomach that grew with each day like a budding fire.

Now my chest was filled with it and the only thing that could tame the raging fire was its source.

Arabella.

I had found out her name when I followed her into the markets one day. The name had rolled off a butchers tongue in haste as she fished around for meat she had no intention of buying.

The large man with the pitted face had scolded her and chased her away by waving a knife in the air and she had laughed while she skipped away in a dance.

Her name, her movements, the way her soft brown hair would fall across her cheek only for her to tuck it back behind her ears, everything she did was so fluid, so effortless like a melody carried by the wind.

And now my heart danced to the sound of her voice and the soft steady skip in her steps.

It went on like this for a month. I followed her around before and after work, always wishing I could do more than just stare but the only form of communication we ever had was the exchange of an empty milk bottle for a new one.

Every day I would find a one with fresh milk on my door step. I'd often wondered what I had done to deserve this and then came to the conclusion that I didn't and that she was an angel.

It wasn't just me she was kind to. The three sisters would wander around the markets selling their milk bottles and once they were done she would buy a piece of fruit with some of their earnings and give them to the homeless people who sat by the bars begging for money.

Sometimes I wondered if that was how she saw me. A skinny homeless boy in need of her help and I wanted to stab that thought with a knife.

I had a plan. I was going to work impossibly hard, save up the money and ask for her hand in marriage. Granted it wouldn't be easy but I was willing to do anything to make her happy.

So that was exactly what I did for the next few months. I carried stone filled bags until my legs were numb and I worked over time when necessary just to earn extra wages. I hid all my earnings in places of the house my mother was unaware of and only gave my mother the bare minimum when she threatened to throw me out, lying about the how my boss cut my earnings every time.

After cutting back on food and saving almost every bit of money I earned I had finally saved a humble amount that could cover our rent and expenses in the town for a certain period.

I believed it was enough for her to be comfortable and that I was finally ready to speak to her.

That evening, after a long shower I wore my best clothes and walked into town to the marketplace where I knew she would be.

Even at this hour, where the sun diminished behind thick clouds that shrouded the sky, the town was still bustling with people. They lined the brick laden walls with their small wooden stalls, some decked with fruits, vegetables and meat, others lined with trinkets and watches that reflected off the last few rays of sun light.

The chatter was a welcome distraction over the sound of my heavily beating heart.

I walked steadily, knowing I was getting closer and closer. When I heard her voice I stopped in my steps, wondering if I was ready to speak to her. After a few moments of hesitation I realized I would really never be ready but for some reason I had to do this.

It was what I had worked for tirelessly night and day with only one thought to get me through. If I ever had the privilege to wake up next to her every morning, it would make all my previous sufferings worth it.

I kept that in mind as I silently made my wall to the dark brown stall by the end of the walkway, near one of the bars I'd seen my mother at recently with her lover.

It had angered me to find her spending my money on drinks but right now it was the last thing on my mind.

My eyes were focused, like they had been held in place by the cement they use to seal the bricks together in the square.

Her hair was tied up high in a bun today, which she tucked under a white handkerchief but streaks of gold and brown stuck out from underneath which she often tucked away as she spoke to people passing by.

A small smile fought its way across my face when she pushed her hair back in irritation. I wanted to comb my hands through it and listen to her laughter all day.

I walked up to them and the three sisters focused their attention on me making my legs feel like jelly. Their big eyes were curious as I approached the wooden panel that made up the counter.

"Umm, I would like to buy a bottle of milk, please," I stuttered through a false façade of confidence which they obviously saw through.

One by one they're faces lit up in a smile like the street lamps on the streets at night and they nodded their heads in recognition.

They knew who I was.

I suppose that should not have surprised me but my cheeks felt warm at their attention and the youngest one giggled in response.

"That would be one peso for you," Arabella said smoothly as she pushed a bottle towards me.

I fiddled with the coins in my pocket finding it hard to keep a calm exterior when she was staring at me so boldly. She was lying, they sold them for two pesos per bottle. She pitied me and I hated it.

"I will pay the full price. I can afford it," I said quickly and then cursed myself inwardly for adding the last part. It made me sound all the more pretentious.

She remained silent, only nodding her head in response.

I took out two coins and placed them on the table before her. She then placed them in the satchel that clung to her waist and I took the bottle in my hand.

I remained still and an air of awkwardness settled amongst us. I wasn't ready to leave just yet, this wasn't what I had come here for.

The three sisters stared at me curiously as I finally found the courage to lean in and whisper.

"Could I speak to you for a moment?" I gestured to the side of the stall which wasn't too far for Arabella to feel unsafe with me but there was enough distance for us to speak in private.

I walked over there and waited for her and my heart nearly imploded within itself when I saw her hesitate for a few seconds. Was she afraid of me? Did she not like me?

When she finally did, I felt the desperation seep into my veins and carry its way into my voice.

"I got something for you." I was clumsy as I fished around my pants for her gift. My hands hastily found what I was looking for and I held it out between us for her to see.

Her eyes widened in surprise but I could not tell if she was happy or shocked.

The pendant dangled between us, a small silver angel attached to a long smooth silver chain that danced between us until it finally stopped wobbling and same to a standstill, just like my breathing.

I urged her to take it but she shook her head.

"It is beautiful but I can't accept this," She said softly however each word felt like a blow to my chest.

"You must. You have helped me so much these past few months. I want to show my appreciation," I pressed, taking a step closer to her. She took a step back.

"It's not just me, my sisters helped as well. I apologize but I really can't accept this. To accept a gift from you would mean more than just a receipt of gratitude. I cannot accept jewellery from a man when I belong to another," She said this with such a conviction and then she pulled back her white scarf to reveal her neck. A beautiful gold chain with a heart shaped pendant hung by her neck.

I swallowed hard not quite registering her words. My ears were buzzing and my hands tightened around the silver chain.

"I'm sorry. Forgive me if I have offended you. I was unaware and it was never my intention to insult you like that," I choked out and then I saw the pity in her eyes again. This time I wanted to claw them out.

I rushed past her, completely forgetting the milk bottle on the floor by our feet.

When I got home I ran to a corner and crouched by the wall staring into space. Eventually my vision became blurry and my cheeks were wet. I rocked back and forth on my tail bone finding the pain a small distraction to the pain in my chest.

I clutched the necklace in my hand tightly and let it fall to the floor with a small thud. I then stared at the fallen angel, staring at me from my feet.

A bitter laugh escaped my lips.

Why would an angel ever be with the likes of me? I was foolish for ever having entertained the thought.

That night I heard the tinkle of glass and when I opened my door I saw the milk bottle by my doorstep. Only this time I didn't drink from it, I smashed it into pieces on the tar road.

That night I dreamt of colourful lights that lit the sky, drinks that overflowed at the rims and a bride's laughter as she stared into the eyes of the man she was going to marry.

I saw Arabella's eye's gleam with happiness only she was not looking at me but at another man who held her hand in his.

I awoke with an emptiness that felt worse than hunger but as the day went by I realized I would be happy for her no matter what. The news of her wedding had spread through the town in the next few weeks and I finally saw the face of the man I could never be. He was tall, handsome and looked well fed, most probably from a good family.

I thought I hated my mother's lover but that was nothing compared to the loathing I felt for this man.

So my anger and hatred fuelled me to work towards my new goal. To build a better life for myself and leave town.

And I eventually did leave town although sooner than I'd expected but Arabella never got married because somehow death had found his way to our small town in Seville and by some cruel twist of fate I had gained his favour.

Guys I'm sorry for the delay but seriously had a hard time just writing anything in general recently. Not sure why but thanks for your patience and hope you enjoy the chapter. It is part of Zayn's back story which I feel is necessary to explain his actions and the way he is in the first book.