Monsters Inside Him (Completed)

Chapter 16: Drunk

Chapter 16: Drunk

After storming out of the room, and leaving me speechless, Zayn had yet to make another appearance. Surprisingly, he left the door open, as an invitation for me to come out and spend time with him. 

Yeah right.

I slid out of bed and slammed the door shut, making it loud enough to let him know that I do not want to come out. I am his prisoner, NOT his guest. I climbed back in my bed, feeling disgusting as I was still wearing his t-shirt, and tried to block him out of my memories.

I miss my family. I miss my Mom, I miss my Dad, I miss my brothers and my sister, I miss my dog, and I miss my friends. Why was I stupid enough to apply for the study abroad program and come to motherfucking London? I could have gone to Paris or Madrid.

Stupid. I’m stupid.

How could he say he loves me? Who the fuck says shit like that? I mean, you don't treat people you love like this. I doubt Zayn even knows what love really is. He can't possibly love me. Whenever we're together, we argue, or things are violent. No, he must only love the idea of me.

I wait for Zayn to come in and yell at me for slamming the door, but he doesn’t. Eventually, I fall back to sleep.


When I wake up again, it’s still dark. I can’t tell if it’s the same night or the next. I woke up to a smell, but not a good one. There was no meal awaiting me. There were no drug infested sandwiches by my bedside.

No, the smell was coming from the corner of the room where I saw the shiny object again. The metal tip to his boots. It was glimmering in the moonlight again.

“What do you want Zayn?” I murmured in exasperation as I lay my head back down on the pillow. I heard him get up and heavy footsteps approached my bed. The smell was becoming stronger and stronger.

Cigarettes and something else.

“I want you.” He slurred as he kneeled by my head.

Cigarettes and alcohol. That’s what that smell was. He is so piss drunk that I could literally SMELL him.

“Well, since I am prisoner here, you technically have me.” I hissed at him, subconsciously scooting to the other side of the bed to put some distance between us. This didn’t go unnoticed by drunk Zayn.

“No, I mean, I want you to want me. Why don’t you love me like I love you?” He muttered as he leaned his elbows forward on the bed. In his right hand was a mostly empty bottle of jack. Oh lord.

“Hmm, let me think-” He cut me off.

“That was rhetorical Darlin’.” His words were slightly jumbled together. Surprisingly, for as drunk as he was, he was able to hold himself together pretty well.

“Why are you here Zayn? You’re going to do something you’ll regret.”I whispered. It was obvious to hear the pain and fear laced in my voice. Zayn noticed immediately.

“I just want you to love me. I wanna be like El and Lou. Why can’t we be like them?” he wimpered.

“Eleanor isn’t there against her will and Louis has never beat El to a point where she could barely walk!” I snapper back. He rolled his eyes.

“Details. Details.” He waved my statement off with a scoff.

“Why?” I whispered to him after a moment of silence. He looked down at me seriously before looking away.

“Why what?” He asked, although it was obvious he knew what I was talking about. I watched as the moonlight lit is sickeningly perfect features.

“Why me? How can you love me? You don’t know me. Why can’t you leave me alone?” I was almost 100% certain my words would set him off, but he shrugged innocently.

“I don’t know.” He whispered.

“You don’t love me.” I stated stubbornly. He sighed in frustration and ran a hand through his dark locks.

“Maybe I don’t, maybe I do. I can't be sure. Al I know is I just really want you.” He whined. I rolled my eyes. He’s already made this clear.

“Why me, though? You can have every other girl.” I told myself to stop. I was treading in dangerous waters. He was drunk and I was pushing a sensitive topic. I tried to stop pushing it, but I couldn’t. I was too stubborn that even I couldn’t handle me.

“Because you said no. No one says no to me, so I needed to get you to be mine, but you just wouldn’t let me. You were too stubborn.” He started to yell. I watched as he brought the bottle to his lips and drained it completely. I felt a shiver run down my spine as is cognition becomes worse and worse.

“Then why didn’t you just leave it and let me be? Zayn, this isn’t the way things should be…” I spoke softly and reached my hand out to touch his hand, hoping to calm him.

Instead, he stood up quickly and yanked away from my touch harshly. 

“NO! I can’t let things be. That’s what HE did and you saw how everything turned out!” He snapped at me. I shrunk back from his volume and furrowed my brow in confusion. What was he talking about? Who was he referring to?

“Zayn, I think that maybe-” He cut me off with a glare and continued on his rant.

“HE wasn’t man enough. HE didn’t make her stay. HE let her leave him. Let them leave him. Let them leave me…” He shouted furiously as he began to pace.

“Who are you talking about?” I asked in a small and timid voice.

“That’s why I do what I do,” he continued, ignoring me, “because if I don’t force you to stay, I’ll end up like him. All alone.” Zayn was too angry and drunk to stop now. I let him finish up, afraid I would get hurt if I interrupted.

“They all left me with him. HE was weak. HE couldn’t control his women so he ended up alone. I will NOT be the same. I am in control. You’re mine. You won’t ever leave me like she left him. You won’t ever leave me like they left me!”He declared in anger before collapsing into a heap on the ground.

I stared at him cautiously for a moment before slipping out of bed and bravely approaching him. I quietly sat on the floor next to him and rubbed my hand on his back gently. I figured I would try a new tactic when dealing with him. My harsh and sarcastic attitude is fine for usual times, but I was afraid of drunk Zayn (anyone who is drunk is unpredictable) so I didn’t want to push it.

“What were you talking about?” I asked barely above a whisper. His head snapped out of his hands and his dark eyes stared at me.

“Nothing. Mind your business.” He tried to sound stern and scary, but behind his front I could hear pain and loneliness.

“Please. Maybe I can help.” I offer up softly, offering the warmest smile I could muster. His brows furrowed as he glared at me in utter confusion.

“Why the fuck would you help me? You hate me.” His broken voice was too hard to cover with the harsh sound he had intended it to be. I thought for a moment on how to answer carefully. I didn’t want to overstep and ruin the moment.

“Well, maybe if you tell me what’s wrong, I’ll understand you better. It might make me more forgiving.” I watched as he had an internal debate on whether or not he should let me into his life. Eventually, I saw in his eyes that I won.

He leaned back against the wall and shut his eyes before he began to speak.

“When I was little, my parents always fought. I never paid it much attention, though. I just thought that’s what parents do; I fought with my sisters all the time, so of course Mum and Dad would fight. It’s only natural.

“I never really realized how wrong for each other they were. My mother came from a fast life in London while my father just moved from Pakistan with conservative Muslim beliefs. They were too different.

“They divorced when I was eleven. No matter how hard my Dad tried to make Mum stay, it didn’t work. She took all four of us, my sister and me, and left him. The custody battle was a bloody one. Neither parent wanted the other to have contact with us. They hated each other too much.

“Finally, it was settled. We would be split, my sisters and me. At the time, Mum and Dad were too enraged to see how much it hurt us. My Dad worked full time while my Mum stayed home to take care of us. It’s not that I loved my mother more, it’s just that I understood her better, we were closer than I was to my father because he was never home.

“The judge decided that he split us based on gender, so, being the only son, I went with my father for good and my three sisters went with my mother. I never saw the again. They just left me in the dust like I was nothing.

“My father missed my mother so much he turned to the bottle. He became an absolute drunk. He was never physically abusive towards me, but he wasn’t much of a father either. You can imagine how scared I was at just eleven to come home to a father like that.

“If he was ever sober, then he wasn’t home. He was at work. Sometimes I prayed that when I came home from school my father would be working just so I wouldn’t have to be afraid. I hated being around him just because he and I never got along. 

“It was obvious that he didn’t want me around, so at 17 I left. I’ve been alone ever since. I haven’t seen him in over four years…” He opened his eyes and looked down at me. For the first time since I met him I saw a human in his eyes instead of some chauvinistic monster.

“Zayn…” I began, not knowing what exactly to say.

“Don’t. Just don’t. I don’t want your fucking sympathy. I don’t fucking want it.” He snapped. I stared at him for a moment more before standing up and sliding back in bed. I felt his sad eyes follow me around the room.

"Please. I didn't mean to snap at you. Please don't be angry with me." He begged. In my experience, most drunk guys are angry, horny and violent. Zayn was the opposite, kind and gentle, broken and needy. When he was sober he was angry, horny and violent. Quite the perplex character.

"I'm not angry with you Zayn." I sighed. He looked up at me with hope in his hazel eyes.

"I want to make things right between us. I want us to be like El and Lou." He whispered. I let out another sad sigh. I couldn't bear to look at his childlike expression. Drunk Zayn was much too soft to be mean to.

"I don't know, Zayn. There's already been a lot of damage."

"Please. Please. I promise I can make things right. I'll never hurt you again. I'll treat you like a princess. I'll try to love you." He begged. He was next to me now, his big eyes reminding me of a puppy.

"Fine. Try." I consented. A huge smile broke across Zayn's face. He leaned in and kissed my forehead before bounding out of the room. I didn't want to agree to this, but he wasn't giving me much of a choice- looking all innocent like that.

It is hard to believe Zayn could show a side like that. I figured he was so drunk that come morning he wouldn't remember any of this and we'll just go back to our old hateful relationship. I hope.