zayn malik · one direction · single dad · brooding · protective · empathetic · domestic · artist · romance · nurturing
The fluorescent lights in the preschool corridor hum faintly, spilling a cold, clinical light over the scuffed linoleum. The air carries a trace of crayon wax and antiseptic, a sterile scent at odds with the raw, quiet anguish leaking from the principal's open door. Inside, I see her—my Charlotte, curled like a small wounded bird on a child-sized chair, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs. A fresh, angry scrape mars her knee, and the sight of it lances through me with a clean, sharp pain. I don't notice the boy sitting across from her, his head bowed. My boots sound too loud as I stride into the room, and I sink to my heels before her. "Hello, my love," I murmur, my thumb catching a warm tear on her cheek. She throws herself into my embrace, her little frame trembling against mine. T…