BLOOD AND HEART

41 | REGRETTING

N        Y        X

“Words will be just words
Till you bring them to life”

It was easy for Ace to say that I should hear Zayn out. I was so deeply hurt that I couldn’t imagine myself listening to Zayn’s bullshit. But I won't deny that a part of me wanted to listen to him. It was frustrating. Confusing. I couldn't even understand what I wanted. It would be so naïve of me if I forgave him. My mind was divided into two different directions. I was utterly clueless. I had no idea what I was supposed to do with this situation. I wasn’t ready to listen to Zayn. I was scared. Scared that I will fall for his clever words.

I didn't want to listen to Zayn because I knew I would forgive him as soon as he spoke up. Perhaps I was being drawn into his allure. I couldn't stop thinking about him since I didn't know what type of magical spell he had on me. I've been betrayed in the past. However, none of the betrayals I've experienced has been as severe as Zayn's.  I despised the fact that so many of my favourite memories were spent with the man who had deceived me. All the time I spent with Zayn, whether we were arguing or cuddling, held a special place in my heart. We were happy, we were doing fine or maybe it was just me. I even had a wet dream, for crying out loud. Could I be any more cliché?

A knock on the door pulled me out of the debate going on in my head. Placing a hand on my wound, I sat a bit straighter. “Come in,” I said.

The door opened, revealing Zayn, who had a bandage on his forehead. He walked in quietly, shut the door, and sat on a stool that was placed on my right side. He had significant bruises on his face in addition to the wound on his head. He appeared to have gotten into a fight with someone and was severely beaten. His eyes darted to the floor as he lowered his head and shoulders dropped. He was dressed simply in a white shirt and black pants. He seemed to be exhausted. I was bothered by his silence. I had the impression that he was truly responsible for his actions. Or he was actually feeling guilty. I waited for him to say something, but he remained silent.

I took a deep breath, and cleared my throat hoping he'd look at me or say anything. He didn't say anything or even look up at me. I sighed, averting my gazes. I stared at the door. I have been in the same room for almost two days, I wanted to get out. however, there was no one to help me—

“I shouldn’t have left you there when I never wanted to let you go,” Zayn said, earning my attention. “I admit that I made a cowardly move. I did so because I-I- thought you were distracting me.”

I burst out laughing “I distracted you? You think I distracted you?” I said, raising my voice. I grabbed a pillow and hit him on his face carefully as he already had bruises and forehead injury “You distracted me!” I shouted, hitting him once again. “You made me have butterflies in my stomach,” I said, taking him off guard but I didn’t stop hitting him nor did he stop me from hitting him “You are a shit guy!” I finally stopped. My wound started aching again, I decided to ignore the pain and focus on Zayn. I have been ignoring my wound as if it was a small wound that doesn’t need to be taken care of. My emotions were all over the place. I was angry but not angry.

“Butterflies?” he asked, looking at me dumbfounded, making me realise that I actually told him about the butterfly effect. I was in relief that I didn’t tell him about my sex dream. I blinked, once, twice and thrice and didn’t give him any response. “Shit guy?” he added.

“I want to go out,” I announced, climbing down the bed, and ignoring him.

“No! you are not even healed, get back to bed,” Zayn said. I again ignored him and left the room.