Killing You (Ziall)

Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Zayn knew he was breaking every single rule he had ever set for himself by letting Niall free of the chains that had bound him. He was vaguely aware that he was experiencing a moment of weakness. This sort of thing never happened to him. He was a hardened killer. He had made sure years ago to rid himself of all "happy" emotions. The only things he could feel were emotions like greed, anger, and hatred. That is, before Niall came along and had to fuck up everything that Zayn had worked so hard for. He was a killer, not some damn romantic.

All these foreign feelings were clouding up his thoughts, making him do things he would never do otherwise. More than once, he found himself smiling--yes, smiling--to himself whenever he thought of a certain boy with a blonde quiff and a heavy Irish accent. And it wasn't his usual masochistic smile dripping with sarcasm, either. No, this was more like a little schoolgirl grinning like an idiot around her first crush. Any other time, in his right mind, Zayn would've beat his head in with a brick for acting like such a bloody idiot. But with Niall's perfect face occupying his every thought, Zayn was definitely not his usual self.

Zayn hunted through his jumbled thoughts, trying to remember things that Niall enjoyed from the file he had been given by Big Boss--BB, as he had grown fond of calling the man. He regretted his half-hearted skimming of the information now that he had gotten acquainted with the boy locked in his basement.

Zayn now sat at the granite-top breakfast bar, drumming his fingers along the slick surface in a rhythmless tune.

Think, Zayn, think!

He looked around his spacious kitchen absently. Then it hit him. Niall loved food! Of course! Zayn would cook the little blonde angel a lovely meal to prove he wasn't all bad.

He didn't want to leave Niall too long after their tense but friendly-ish encounter a few minutes ago. If he had any luck whatsoever, Niall was rethinking those cruel words he'd hurled at Zayn the day before. At the moment, he had Niall right where he wanted him. He'd have to hurry, though, or Niall's thoughts would no doubt drift back to when Zayn slaughtered Josh before his best mate's very eyes.

Zayn's thoughts drifted to the terrified look flashing through Josh's tear-filled eyes, the pathetic whimpers escaping his chapped lips, and best of all, the sight and feel of his warm red blood washing over Zayn's needy fingers. He cracked a smile and felt his hands begin to shake slightly with the lust for more blood. As soon as he realised what was happening, Zayn snapped himself out of it and stood from his seat at the bar.

Right...Niall.

He had to show Niall he wasn't just some bloodthirsty murderer. His continuous thoughts of his next target and his constant need for freshly spilled blood screamed otherwise, but since Niall had come along, that need had lessened somewhat. He could literally feel something shifting in him. Zayn had yet to decide whether he liked the new feelings or not, but for now, he focused on Niall and Niall alone.

Zayn got to work on preparing the grand breakfast he was to serve Niall. It was past breakfast time, but it was his favourite kind of food to cook, and he figured that Niall wouldn't care, as long as he was getting a hot meal. He had gone days already with nothing but water and whatever leftovers Zayn had felt like throwing to the boy, as if he was a pigeon on the street. Yeah, he definitely would be excited for a decent meal for once.

Pulling the fridge open, Zayn peered inside at its contents, searching for inspiration. He removed some eggs, a package of sausage, orange juice, and the ingredients for pancakes. He was going to go all out, because that's how Zayn liked to do things. The stovetop finally heated up and began sizzling as the boy added a couple links of sausage. He was about to return the package to the big silver refrigerator when he remembered reading that Niall not only loved food, but he had a big appetite to go along with it. Zayn slipped his long fingers back into the plastic and grabbed a few more pieces of the oily meat and threw them in the hot pan. He got to work on scrambling the eggs until they were fluffy. He removed them from the heat and set the whole steaming pan in the microwave to keep them warm while he fried the pancakes. After scooping ladlefuls of pasty batter onto the greased skillet, Zayn took a step back and crossed his arms, waiting for the pancakes to start bubbling at the sides, indicating they were ready to be flipped.