Their doll 2

60- One more time

It felt like I was walking through a dungeon.

A clean, white walls with an undertone of an artificial fragrance; an antiseptic dungeon.

The closer we got to the end of the long hallway, the more nervous and restless I had become. My heart raced faster. My breath grew heavier. I remembered the last time I came to a hospital. That was years ago. But that hospital was nothing compare to this one.

The Sullivans family's hospitals are private. They're expensive. Luxury. My family could never afford to get a service at places like this. Unless, my father was secretly growing a money tree with actual U.S. dollar bank notes in our backyard. There is no possible way.

When Yolanda, the receptionist finally slowed her steps, my eyes watched her. She stopped in front of a heavy wooden door and knocked twice. Meanwhile, I looked up to see a name tag carved in large block letters on gold plate above the door. Even his name gave me chills.

In a deep, low but authoritative voice, I heard the person on the other side of the wall said.

"Come in."

And the door was pulled open by Yolanda slowly yet, carefully. Like she was afraid to make any noise, but it was impossible considering how heavy the door appeared to be.

Stepping forward as Yolanda used her hand to gesture me, I brushed past her and she sympathetically gave me a faint smile. A fake one, then she went ahead and left the room.

The door fell shut behind me, I tried not to flinch at the sound it made and lifted up my gaze slowly half-way.

To my surprise, his eyes, they were looking everywhere but in my direction.

Didn't even bother to acknowledge my presence in the room as he proceeded to slip off his clean, white lab coat and went to hang it neatly in the closet. He had a reading glasses on but then quickly got rid of them as well.

I didn't mean to stare, but for some odd reasons, my eyes couldn't stop watching him.

Zayn unbuttoned his cuff, rolled up his sleeves and I'm sure it didn't mean anything; but my heart did kind of feel funny. Something light, yet hot burned in the bottom of my stomach.

"I won't ask."

The sound of his heavy footsteps snapped me out of my daze as it advanced toward me. Leaning against the table, standing only a few feet away, although neither one of us had yet spoken anything to each other, we communicated through our bodily tensions.

His aura was so intense. But then he almost looked like he regretted his stiff manner the second our eyes met.

"We need to talk." I said. The same fear flared in my gut leaving me raw with emotion.

Trying to conceal any fear in my voice, I spoke, loud and clear.

"I heard about Chris."

His head titled ever so slightly, but his body remained in the same exact position.

"Pardon?" He pretended to look at me, perplexed.

"What did you do to him?" I asked, not bothering to hide the accusation in my tone.

Crossing his arms above his chest, his biceps flexed, stretching the material of his cotton white shirt. Zayn proceeded to glare me down with his darkened, intimidating eyes.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Liar.

"Did you kill him, Zayn?" I could feel the tension radiating across the room as I growled at him, "Or did they?"