ARIANA’S POV
I dropped to my knees beside Zayn as his body slumped to the floor. My heart suddenly started to race so fast that I was so sure it might burst out of my chest at any moment.
“Zayn? Zayn, wake up.”
Nothing. He lay out cold on the floor, with his chest barely moving as he took in shallow breaths. His face looked so pale and lifeless.
“Zayn?!” I shook him harder this time as desperation started to creep in. But he still didn’t respond.
Panic surged through my veins as I pressed two of my fingers to his neck, searching for a pulse. It was there—but faint. Too faint.
“Oh God,” I whispered, my voice trembling with fear. I tried to remember if I’d ever seen him like that. My mind went back to the times he’d looked pale, the moments he winced or groaned as if he was in pain.
