As We Fall (Blaise Zabini Fanfiction)

Chapter 38

Long time no see!

I realize it has been quite awhile since I've updated this fanfiction. I've had so many things going on in 2021 (for example, working 40 hour work weeks), and now I'm back in school.

I'm so sorry I've kept you guys waiting so long for an update. But to my readers who are still here and reading this right now -- I genuinely appreciate you so much. I wouldn't be at this point with my account and stories if it weren't for you all.

I hope you enjoy this chapter! I suggest re-reading a few of the other chapters a little bit to refresh your memories <3

***

Zoe

The room is still dark when my eyes drift open. Blaise -- who lies beside me, still submerged in deep sleep -- is the first thought on my mind.

I'm lying with my back towards him, his arms folded in a loose grasp around my body. One of his hands is pressed against my stomach, his thumb resting just above my belly button.

The rhythmic sound of his breath, the feeling of it unfurling softly against my neck, makes me want to drift right back into a peaceful sleep beside him. But I know I can't -- I have things to do, business to take care of, tasks to cross off on my very important checklist.

I sent my grandpa a letter yesterday, and it's quite possible that he's already responded.

A brown barn owl had flown off in the early hours of Saturday morning with my message, and if my assumptions are correct, the bird should've arrived last night.

I know that if he's received my letter, my grandpa wouldn't waste any time in writing back to me. He's reliable like that.

Anxious to see if the owl has returned with his response yet, I decide to slide out from Blaise's arms and make my way up to the owlrey.

Once I've tip-toed across the room to his door, I steal one last glance back at him, my hand resting on the brass knob.

He doesn't look particularly peaceful.

He's still -- no muscle in motion. His features are wound tightly with stress and frustration. His lips are parted, pushing out heavy breaths, and his eyelids are tense and creased, as though something unsettling is playing out behind them.

I swallow uneasily. Is he having a bad dream?

He looks to be in a deep sleep -- one that he won't wake from for at least several hours.

I decide to leave him be for now and journey up to the owlrey as I'd planned. If I hurry, it will take me a half an hour at most. Hopefully, I'll be back before he wakes.

***

My dear Zoe,

I should tell you that I hurt myself while working about a week ago. I'm having trouble doing things on my own here, and I really need you to come home and help me for a few days.

I know I shouldn't be asking you to leave school, but this is necessary. Your Aunt has gone on a trip overseas, so I'm all alone here.

It's important that you come home right now, Zoe, as soon as you can. I won't ask you to stay for long, but this is urgent.

I'll be waiting for you.

From, Grandpa Abraham

My knuckles turn white as I grasp the piece of paper on which my grandpa's letter is written.

He's hurt himself? And how? Why didn't he tell me how?

This isn't like him -- it isn't like him at all. The jolly, uplifting tone that his voice normally carries has vanished like a wisp of smoke, and in its place stand words that are lifeless and vague.