Neon Red [Order The eBook] [Zayn]

19

(DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. It's important to remember this is all totally fabricated, embellished, and exaggerated for entertainment purposes.)

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If I go, I'm goin' crazy

Let my darlin' take me there

Gregory Alan Isakov - If I Go, I'm Going

The sound of the phone vibrating against the balcony woke me some time after 3AM. I weighed whether it was worth dragging my ass out of bed to collect it, knowing it would probably be irrelevant once I made my way over and checked the caller ID. Still, something urged me go, pulling me from an unbending sleep paralysis and guiding me across the room in the nude. It rang again and I found it through the blackness like a lighthouse on a distant shore. It lay face up; screen shattered in the corner where it had clapped against the sliding door. When I saw that it was him, I dropped to my knees to answer.

"Haz?"

"...you don't love me," he whispered. I could smell the booze on his breath through the line. "You're tired of me. You're embarrassed by me. You want to hide..."

"That's not true..."

"I don't wanna be a burden to anyone. I can't bother you anymore. I guess it's my cross to bear, if you're done with it all."

"Not remotely done. You're not bothering me, baby..." I whispered into the speaker.

"M'sorry..."

"Stop apologizing..." I smiled tiredly, toying with the carpet at my knee. "I should be the one apologizing..."

"I thought you were my forever..."

"Who says we're entitled to forever anyweh?"

"I don't want it to end..."

"Maybe it won't. Just don't let it, baby."

"I won't give up on uz. You think I'm joking when I say that, but I never will."

"...I believe youh." After some time, I murmured, "I'll never give up on us either, y'know?"

"I know. " But he didn't know. He was petrified of me and worried about what I was thinking. After the engagement, I'd given him no reason to trust anything I said going forward. But I knew he could feel how special it was. Knew he would never meet anyone else like me in his life, and this notion equally invigorated and intimidated him. I was all he had, and that had given me unspeakable power. Power I never asked for and didn't want.

When we hung up, I climbed in the bed and shut my eyes, despite being wired. My heart was still racing from hearing his voice. I knew he was drunk, but I think it made him unguarded enough to speak his mind. I only wondered if he would feel the same come morning. When I took the elevator downstairs to meet the rest of the boys, would he be back to ignoring me like yesterday? Or would his eyes resonate with the syrupy sweetness that had coated his words tonight? All it took was one word from him, no matter how inebriated, to make me feel right again. A calm washed over me and I thought of what I'd say when we met tomorrow. I formulated how to let him know we needed to erase the things I said in the stairwell and start over.

Before long, I got a video message. It was him. He was being cruel but nice at the same time, like he hated that he pitied me. He knew how much I was hankering for him still. Itching for a hit to get me through the night. I opened the video and the first thing I saw was his butterfly because his t-shirt was raised. He stroked his stomach with achingly soft caresses, teasing himself, and I wanted to kiss every place he touched. I pressed my lips to the back of my wrist to occupy them, but continued watching. His room was quiet; so was mine. I could hear him breathing. I could hear myself breathing. He dipped his hand beneath the sheet and groaned softly as he did so. I shuddered at how vocal he was, even when he was alone. He never let me see his face. It was a habit of his, hiding his features any time he sent me anything. He just didn't want me to read him.