Forbidden

Chapter fifty-four

His fever is finally down after I gave him something for it and he's sleeping soundly on his bed.

He hadn't stop looking at me since he asked me that, making me so uncomfortable like he's not giving up until he gets what he wants. But since he was too tired he fell asleep shortly after.

It's unbelievable what he revealed tonight.in his drowsy state. About his mother, about how he wants me back. It definitely took its toll on my feelings and makes me rethink.

Sometimes he's still twitching in his sleep but the worst of withdrawals he has overcome. Earlier I wanted to ask if he has itchings for drugs but thought that that wasn't my place.

I sit next to him after wringing the water out of a towel and lay it on his forehead.

"Main yahan hoon, ammi." he mumbled as I want to walk away. I frown.

What?

"No, no.." he grumbled, I'm quickly sitting on my knees on the bed, close to his sprawled out body.

"Where is she?" he yelled suddenly and jolted up lightly but his eyes were still squeezed close."Mum.." he lowly rasped.

"You're okay Zayn. It is just a dream." I whisper with wide eyes, cautiously touching his arms shaking him lightly.

He's dreaming about his mother, and I feel sad immediately.

He's still thrashing and when he whined I had to touch his hair raking my fingers smoothly through it then graze his head from time to time, he stilled frowning in his sleep but just as I knew he would he calmed down and his body is gravitating closer to mine to the point his head is on my lap.

Great.

Sighing I adjust myself so I can lay on the head board of the bed.

+

Gentle brushes of fingers on my cheek made me lean to the touch but whine annoyed, I heard a low chuckle but refused to open my eyes. Then I hear the door open and close. I continue my slumber a bit more until my eyes open willingly.

Stretching a bit I can see that I'm still in his bed but the cover is put on me. I blink before remembering how I ended up here. Tiredness on my actions, I had forgotten to change my clothes, still in my blue washed out jeans and a black fitting long sleeved shirt that wasn't comfortable to sleep in but I had managed, maybe I was too exhausted.

The door creaks open and my gaze follows the sound.

Zayn stalked around in his room with damp hair, only a towel hanging low on his hips, my heart skips a beat when I see a patch of dark hair trailing under the towel, water drops trailing down his bare chest. Zayn shook his head before he ran a hand through his hair one of his signature gestures. Even the tattoos and scars scattered on his body were catching. He looked my way and his crooked little smile was lit on his face while he waited patiently, each time he'd inhale his chest would broaden.

I need to stop gawking at him, more so since he knows.

"Are you feeling better?" I mumble, ignoring that intensive gaze.

"Yeah. Because of you." he softly told me. He's in a good mood for someone who was suffering, still is, from withdrawals. I take a deep breath, standing up while trying to bend my bed hair running my fingers through them, his almond eyes on me.

"You said some things while you were burning in fever.. Do you remember them?" I had to ask. If I was in his place I would want to know if I said things I wasn't supposed to and wasn't aware of.

His face frowned lightly but his body is still slacked, not alarmed.

"No..but whatever I said be it bad or good was the truth." he exhaled looking down the floor then back at me."So I'm sorry if it hurt you."