Doom At Your Service: A Haylor AU

Chapter 6: Love Me

"Make up your mind

Let me live or let me love you

While you've been saving your neck

I've been breaking mine for you."

Zayn's POV

"I'm sorry I had an urgent call." I entered the room, while Tom sighed with a folder in his hands. He threw it on the table, just right when I sat myself down.

"This should be the most urgent matter in your hands." He pointed at the folder, crossing his legs. "My ranking got pushed down." He raised his voice a bit.

"Right, I see." I picked it up, scanning through the papers within it.

"And what? Sky Horan? This writer I've never heard of is climbing up now."

"This industry has a lot of competition." I told him, not even bothering to give him any eye contact.

"I heard that all the writers you handle are in the top 10. What's your secret?" He leaned forward, softening his voice into a whisper.

"I'm not sure. The writers work really hard."

"Hey, don't be a stranger now." He spoke with his douchebag tone, making me tighten the grip on the folder. I gently placed it back on the glass table and put on a small smile.

"I'll tell you if you pay me." I negotiated.

"You make nasty jokes." He laughed.

"I wasn't joking. Do you want to sign with me? A personal contract with just me." I continued austerely. "You will do exactly what I'll tell you to do. If you get to the top 10 writers, I get a bonus."

"Do you mean that?" Cruise seemed interested.

"That was a joke." I chuckled. "No way."

Doom's POV

"It's a glioblastoma." I told my patient. Well, not really my own patient, but a hypnotized one. "You have multifocal glioblastomas."

In a few seconds, tears started to well up in her eyes and breath started to get heavy. "I will find out more with a biopsy." I copied what Taylor's doctor said.

"I'll do it." She agreed quickly. "I'll do everything, please help me." Her voice was trembling as she begged me.

"With the surgery you'll have a year. Without it you'll get three months. Even if you get the surgery, you may suffer from hemiplegia, a speech disorder, and a cognitive disorder as well." I continued.

"I'll get the surgery. I'll get it now." She nodded. "Please help me. Help me, doctor." Her tears streamed down her face.

"Right. This is the right reaction." I spoke my opinion aloud. I was comparing it to my client Miss Depressed Blondie's and my patient in front of me is more natural.

"What?" The patient seemed confused.

"I mean, you should be clinging on to me, right?" I asked her. "She's so weird." I shook my head.

"What do you mean?" She slowly stopped crying.