Phantasmagoria (Ziall)

Chapter 4

Something was off about this place. I couldn't tell you what it was, but I felt as though I was being watched. I don’t know, maybe it was just Harry taking pictures all the time. I mean, he never put that damn camera down. The only problem was that Harry’s constant picture taking could only amount for the times I felt watched during the day, not how I felt that night. 

I couldn’t sleep for shit. I kept tossing and turning in my hotel bed and thinking about all that led to us being there. It started with Zayn, who had invited Harry and I on a trip to his family’s lake house. Of course, I said yes. All because Zayn had this hold on me that I couldn’t escape from.  I knew it was because I let myself feel something of him. Hell, it’s been years and I can still feel his lips on mine. I should have never kissed him. 

Zayn pulled away from me too quickly. I wished that the kiss had lasted longer, but it wasn’t that sort of kiss. I was just helping him find out who he was. But what was this feeling I was experiencing? 

“So, how was it?” I asked nervously, biting my lips. Zayn looked at me, his face red. He nodded at me and then turned to face the field we had come to. I was nervous to talk to him again since he wasn’t saying anything. I didn’t know if he liked it, or if he didn’t. Did he really like boys? Would he kiss Louis when he had the chance?

“Please don’t tell anyone about this.” He spoke quietly. “I-I don’t want my parents to know.” He sighed and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. I felt lost. So he didn’t like it? He didn’t want to kiss again? I wouldn’t have minded if he did. I think I was left more confused than Zayn was when he walked away from me. 

“Zayn, wait.” I reached out to him, but he kept walking away from me. 

And now he was coming back to me. Wanting to talk to me and telling me he keeps thinking about that day when we kissed. But this time, it was me not wanting to talk to him. I didn’t want to be left alone and confused, which was how I felt at the moment. 

I stared at the ceiling of the room which was just as ornate as the decorations. It had this intricate design that my tired eyes followed. I hoped that tracing over the pattern with my mind would eventually lull me to sleep, but I was very mistaken. For some reason, no matter how tired I got, I couldn’t fall asleep.

A creaking noise filled the room and I saw Harry move in his bed out of the corner of my eyes. Maybe he was awake. “Hey, Harry?” I waited for a response, but only heard Harry breath out heavily and roll over. 

My eyes were burning for sleep, but each time I relaxed I would hear another noise. I played it off as the building being generally old, but my ears tuned into a specific noise, like shoe heels on a wooden floor. 

I sat up, my bed creaking beneath me. Harry was still sleeping soundly in his bed, oblivious to the footsteps outside our door in the hallway. I peered at the bottom of our door where a small crack let in the light from the hall. Whenever I would hear the footsteps, a shadow would pass in front of the door. Instead of acting like a little kid and hiding under the covers, ‘cause lets be honest here, this place gives me the creeps, I got up from my bed and walked over to the door and slowly opened it. 

“Zayn?” I blinked a few times, seeing Zayn pacing the hallway. He stopped and turned to me. I noticed the dark bags under his eyes first thing. “Why are you up?” I asked.