Ziam oneshots ✔️

Irresistible Impulse

Liam sighed and looked at his bare foot. It was all wounded, bruised, and scarred. He was exhausted beyond belief and all he wanted to do was to lay down on his bed, in his own place, away from all of this.

But what could he do?

He's been running nonstop. Trying his best to get away but it was obvious he's just running in circles, not really escaping. Just rounding the maze of this dark forest as his eyes sweep to one tree after one another. He wasn't sure what to do but he kept his hope that maybe, maybe there's still a chance for him to go back to where he should be, to where he want to be.

Not in this where all of him is controlled by a person who would not even let him feed himself.

The obsession looming around his head scares him. The idea that there's eyes watching him wherever he goes haunted him, even in his sleep.

What he thought was a monster in the cabinet when he was a kid was nothing like what he is experiencing now. He tried to wipe the sweat of his forehead, his lithe frame encased by an oversized shirt, something that smells so good but so scary. Sweetly scary.

He wasn't even allowed to wear his own clothes neither was he allowed to have his own possession. It was in his captor's statement that what is his is what he owns as well. Sickly on its own style.

The books that Liam loves stay in the bookshelf of his captor's cabin, he wasn't even allowed to read it unless he can be what the man referred to as 'good boy'. And for the past two weeks that he's been caged in that place, he wasn't. He was bratty, whiny, a sobbing mess. Pleading the man to let him go.

The man who he did not even know the name of.

He gulped and a hoarse yelp bubbled from his throat when he tripped and fell down on the hard ground. He grumbled, his heart feeling like it's about to jump out of his chest as his ears tried their best to listen at his surrounding. The way the wind of the night seem to add to the eerie atmosphere around him, the way his breath comes out as a smoke and his goosebumps keen on his skin.

He bit his lips tight when he heard a rustle from his left side, even from a considerable distance he was well aware of that noise. The familiar heavy footsteps, a sound of nothing but a grave warning, the noise able to strike fear inside him, tremor feeding his whole being as he tried to control his breathing pattern.

He prayed to whoever can hear to let him see daylight if he was to be caught. His captor who he have not learn the name yet is someone so utterly dangerous, one look and it makes Liam keep his mouth shut. His towering figure to his lithe frame, he knew he's small and have literally no chance at all to escape.

But he still tried to. Whatever or whoever possessed him when he saw the door wide open, calling out to him and grabbed this chance, he knew of what mistake he had made. He doesn't even know where he is, not aware of where they are, of what continent, what country, what town.

As the footsteps drew nearer, his breath hitched and his chest heaved. He gripped the edge of the shirt tight. Regret washing his whole being and practicing how to convey how sorry he was for this action.

He didn't bother to get up, feeling the sting of his sole and the pain around his ankles and the exhaustion, all he wanted to do was to close his eyes and let sleep take over.

But his eyes stayed wide open as a shadow emerged from a huge tree, a black shirt hung around the man's muscled torso, a holster around his waist and a sleek gun greeting him with another wave of danger.

Alarms blare in his mind as he fought the urge to let out a gut-wrenching plea. He let a tear roll down from his eyes. His mind ringing, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.