Insanity Bites |z.m| |h.s|

Chapter 65: The First Lie

I arched my back in an attempt to stretch it but soon realized that the uneasiness I felt wasn't just physical. Next to me Harry was in a deep slumber, his hands and legs spread out making him look like a spider. A drunk yet very peaceful one.

I wondered if he would remember the words he had dropped on my lap like a bomb before he fell asleep. I hoped he wouldn't. I hoped it was just the alcohol talking or the grief from his altercation with his father at the Stratford Ball.

The implication that Harry could have feelings for me has never crossed my mind before. Not until today when we danced together and he had curtly asked me to 'hang out' after everything was over and later when he had asked me if I loved him.

I rubbed my temples as a headache threatened to surface. This was an unnecessary distraction and I couldn't dwell on it. Whether Harry really liked me or not was secondary to the priority at hand. I needed to concentrate on the immediate issue at hand, my life and how to prevent Zayn from taking it.

I got up slowly and walked to the attached bathroom. With the door still open so I could keep an eye on Harry, I walked to the gold rimmed glass sink and placed my hands against it. Gripping  the glass, I let it carry my weight as I stared at myself in the huge, brightly lit mirror before me.

I felt like I was getting somewhere but no where in particular. 

I knew Zayn wanted to kill me and make it look like a suicide. Josephs murder was by his own hand but I was sure Zayn had killed Sally Morden as well. I had a feeling he had killed Derek and all those other people on Harry's list. The encounter with Harry's father made me suspicious about those people he spoke about but I didn't know if they had anything to do with Zayn and if they weren't then I couldn't worry about them for now.

I had to focus on Zayn and how to defeat him. Could I defeat him? 

I unzipped my purse and looked around for the small wooden stake I had hand carved during my free time at home recuperating. The sharp tip stared back at me and I wondered if I would ever be able to use it. Could I kill him if it came to it?

My throat constricted and I had to look away because I felt like throwing up. The curtain shifted behind me and I looked up in alarm. Through the reflection in the mirror I could see the flimsy material shifting with the wind coming through the door.

I turned around and pulled it to the side just to make sure there was nothing behind it. A smile formed on my lips at the moving material, I was becoming really paranoid and then the movement stopped.

The wind blowing in ceased and I heard the soft clicking sound of the door being locked from the inside.

The tension in my shoulders returned as I leaned away from the curtains to see a figure clad in black leaning against the doorway.

"I'm not going to beg for you to kill me tonight," I replied firmly even though my body was shaking. 

Zayn folded his arms casually as he watched me like a hawk. His eyes studying me from head to toe, a predator eyeing its prey but he made no attempt to move as I scrupulously shifted to the sink where my purse was, where the stake hid.

I fumbled with it nervously as my hand dug around and then locked around it's wooden handle firmly.

"All these years of existing, you'd think something as simple as color would fail to fascinate me. I've painted before, blending colors together used to be a form of therapy. And to think with all the shades at my disposal, my favorite color was always white. There's something special about the color white. It's untouched, easily stained. Pure but easily defiled. Fragile yet so utterly desirable," Zayn said, his voice barely a whisper.