It's a fact that you can't help who you fall in love with. And for Rosaline Davenport and him, it definitely shouldn't have been each other.
Because, sometimes, love stories have blood on them.
[warning: this is the mother of all slow-burns]
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【 04.
Four
Dhokha 】
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[ Dhokha • treachery ]
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WHEN ZACHARY HISSES in pain yet again, his mother loses whatever remains of her patience.
“Hey,” she snaps at the medic pulling out the glass shards embedded in Zachary’s skin, “If my son so much as twitches because you can’t do your job right, I will shove all those glass pieces down your throat.”
“Mehreen,” Sebastian hisses under his breath, shooting her a frustrated look before glancing at the appalled medic, “Thank you for tending to our son; please continue.”
Zachary’s lips part, about to say something—anything—to the person cleaning his wounds, some sort of an attempt to put them back at ease, when his phone suddenly starts ringing.
The name displayed on the screen makes the steady beats of his heart stutter.
“Hey,” he says softly into the phone.
There’s a huge breath of relief on the other end. “Zach!” Dahlia exclaims, and he detects the slight tremble in her voice, one that he knows she’s undoubtedly trying to suppress. “Zach, I saw the news—and—Felix, he said he’s okay, but that—you’re hurt, aren’t you?” Her tone is rushed, out of breath, like the two of them have this one single moment and not a second longer, and she’s trying to stuff in all the words before time runs out. “I should’ve been there—I should’ve—instead of this stupid, stupid—”
“Dahlia,” Zachary mutters, “I’m glad you weren’t here, okay? If something had happened…” he trails off, not wanting to have a conversation of an intimate nature while a stranger cleans and bandages his wounds. “Am I good to go?” he asks the medic, slipping on a polite smile.
The medic nods, instructing Zachary on how to clean those cuts and replace the gauze before stepping away and allowing him to slip outside one of the French windows.
“Sorry,” he quickly says into the phone, “Had to get away from the medic.”
“Are you okay?” Her voice sounds choked, like she’s struggling not to cry. It warms Zachary’s heart.
“I’m fine, Lia,” he tells her with a small smile, “The only trouble was having to keep my head tilted up the entire time while having my cuts cleaned.”
“Still can’t stand the sight of blood, huh?” she laughs softly.
“A little bit is fine,” he shrugs, “But my hands and neck got cut up in so many places, it’s like tiny streams of blood running down everywhere.” He shudders, closing his eyes for a brief moment and trying not to think about the revolting red substance. “The cuts weren’t deep anyway, so I didn’t have to go to the ER. I’m okay.”
