Nightlight (on hold)

Chapter 33

Chapter 33

"We need to talk." Zayn said to me one day while we were eating lunch. While he was given the go ahead to work by Eleanor, I was still confined to very little movement. His bruising was almost gone, leaving scars from a few cuts, his ankle was healed but his rib still hurt. So no fighting for him, but he just wanted to be proactive.

"What, are you breaking up with me?" I deadpanned. The last time a guy said that to me, he dumped me, but that was way back- in high school. Zayn glared at me, clearly not amused.

I had frequently asked what had happened that day after I passed out. I wanted to know what went down, how things finished, if the war was still ongoing, how the human trafficking thing was going, but Zayn refused to tell me anything and informed everyone else I was to be kept out of the loop. Although the other girls seemed out of the loop too. They, however, didn't mind.

I did.

"Be serious." He scolded me.

"I'm always serious!" I pretended to be offended. I widened my eyes and dropped my jaw open and covered my mouth with my hand in mock shock.

"Darlin'." He warned again.

"Sorry sorry." I held my hands up in surrender. He regarded me carefully for a moment, waiting for me to start goofing off again. And, as tempted as I was, I resisted the urge. I guess I really did mature.

Psych.

"Alright, well we need to discuss that stunt you pulled last week." He looked at me with a very dark expression and I could truly read, for the first time, just how angry he was at me.

Well furious, actually.

I knew he wasn't happy about it, but it was extremely intimidating meeting his eyes with all that fury built up behind them. I knew he wouldn't hurt me, he would never hurt me, but somewhere deep inside I had the irrational fear that he'd send me away. I tried to ignore it, but it was in the pit of my stomach and it made me want to throw up.

I mean, maybe it wasn't irrational. He had sent me away once before, when my life was in danger. But I tried to convince myself he wouldn't do that again.

He couldn't, right?

I gulped back bile nervously.

"O-ok." I said shakily.

"What did I tell you to do?" He asked me in a low voice, but not without that anger he had. It wouldn't go away that easily.

I knew where this conversation was going.

"To leave." I responded quietly. I sounded like a naughty child, who got caught with their hand in the cookie jar. Which was odd. Because what I had done was nothing at all like that. What I had done was so much more.

"And what did you do?" He growled.

"I threw myself at Damien." I admitted.

"Do you see what my problem is? Darlin', when I tell you to do something, ESPECIALLY in that situation, you need to do it. I've tried and fucking tried again to get you to understand that. WHAT DO I HAVE TO DO TO GET IT THROUGH YOUR HEAD?!" His voice gradually rose until he was shouting at me. Frankly, I was surprised it took him so long to raise his voice at me.

I let out a yelp when his fist slammed on the table, shaking the whole piece of furniture. He stood up quickly and began to pace rapidly back and forth in the kitchen, I felt his glare hit me every so often, but I didn't dare meet his eyes.

"I-I'm sorry, I-I wasn't thinking." I apologized quickly.

I really didn't want to fight with him. That was the complete opposite of my plan for that day. I just wanted to be a happily ever after married couple already. Was that too much to ask? Apparently so.