Zen

01.3

By the time everything was settled and the house looked like home again, only moonlight was streaming in through the windows.

I decided to see how my guest was doing. I wouldn't be surprised if he was gone. Gather intel on the target, leave, prepare for war. I didn't even know why he had stayed so long.

The door to the room was unlocked, ajar. I pushed it open slightly.

The lamp inside was on, emitting a soft glow that surrounded the room. Music was playing softly. Zen was in the centre of the room, back facing me. His back was bare, showing off the taut muscles in his back and the several tattoos. And a scar that ran from his shoulder to his hip and disappeared to the front.

I leaned against the doorframe, watching him. He was laying out some things, picking things up then putting them back down.

I crossed my arms, eyeing his tattoos. He had a small tattoo on the right of his back, words that I couldn't decipher. Then there was a pattern, that started from the left and ended up curled around his upper left arm. Below, just above the waistband of his jeans, was a barcode. Two, in fact.

I cocked my head, wondering why someone would ever ink a barcode onto their skin, let alone two. And then, that was it. No more tattoos.

I frowned. There was supposed to be one more.

At that moment, Zen turned to face me slowly. He stared at me silently.

I walked over to him. "You're not one of them." I said in realization.

One end of his mouth lifted. "No," He replied. "But the one they sent will be here soon."

"Why didn't you tell me?" I inquired, confused.

Zen shrugged, "You thought the Council sent me, and it was funny to watch."

I hit him in the chest, "That's not funny! I was ready to kill you."

Zen bent his head lower, and brought his lips to my ear. "As if you could."

His voice was barely a whisper, his tone laced with humour and a little bit of darkness. It sent a chill down my spine.

"Why are you here?" I asked, for the umpteenth time today.

However, this time, he replied. "I was sent to shadow you." He informed me.

I frowned, "By who?"

Zen shot me one of his lopsided grins. Then he remained silent.

"You always do this," I huffed. "Smile at me then not reply."

We stared at each other for a while, before Zen smiled gently at me. "You should get some sleep." He told me, voice soft.

I was about to argue, when I realized just how tired I was. I started to leave, before I turned back. "I don't need you to shadow me, or to protect me." My voice was cold as the words left my mouth.

I didn't mean for them to come out as harsh as they did, but I didn't feel bad about it either. Zen should know who he was dealing with. If he wants to shadow me, he should know the coldness in me.

•••

I let out a yawn, eyes still closed. I could tell it was morning. I cracked open my eyes sleepily. Sunlight was streaming through the windows.

I stretched my body, rolling over to my side. I slung an arm over the pillow I was hugging, only to come in contact with someone.

I glanced up groggily at Zen, who was staring down at me. "What in the bloody hell are you doing here?!" I exclaimed, groaning. It was too early for this. "I told you to stay out of my room!"

"I couldn't risk leaving you alone." He stated simply.

I let out another groan, using my pillow to cover my head. Please just go away. The pillow flew out of my grasp.

I glared at Zen through shut lids.

Then I went back to sleep. Or well, trying to sleep.

I was about to doze off when fingers touched my face. I froze, partly because I was unsure of what to do and also because I was too tired to think.

Zen ran a thumb across my cheek lightly. "Sweetheart, get up." He whispered, and for the first time, I noticed that he had a slight accent.

If anybody else had touched me like that, I would've told them not to. Probably even made it clear to them that they didn't want to go against my words. But I didn't say anything to Zen.

There was something about the way he spoke and behaved that made me feel safe. He reminded me of home, wherever that was. He was like a gigantic walking memory, and there were many things he did that made me feel nostalgic.

I pushed the thoughts out of my head, and pushed Zen away from me. "Okay, I'm up," I grumbled, getting off the bed. "Just keep out of my space next time." I shuffled into the bathroom, rubbing my face.

This was the problem with me. Even after all that I've been through, and put others through, I keep trusting. Sure, I disliked ninety-eight point five percent of the population, but there was the one point five percent that I keep trusting, even after knowing what would happen if I ever got close to someone again. I'm damaged. I've been for the past ten years. I'd just hurt myself even more. Besides, it was ridiculous for me to even think that Zen was someone good. If he was, he wouldn't have woken me up. At nine.