» irresistible «

(09) White Zombies

(09) White Zombies

 I woke up alone the next day.

Liam had successfully fixed the heater yesterday, and I slept on the couch over the night. I noticed something, though, felt something that shouldn't have been. It wasn't as warm as before. The soft fabric of the couch that once ignited all sorts of comfort within me whenever I laid on it wasn't there any more. Even though the heater was up and running, that comfortable sense that I once upon a time always had within the safe confines of warmth had dissipated. Sure, it was warm as heck, but it didn't affect me as much. I found myself wanting a different kind of heat. Maybe secure arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me close until no space was left between me and to whom the arms belonged to. Or maybe warm puffs of breath fanning over my neck, steady rythm of heart beats lulling me to sleep.

I don't know.

I was half awake, half asleep the whole night. That feeling of craving for something lodged in my delusional mind. I wanted it to be morning already, though I wasn't exactly sure why. Maybe I just wanted to talk to somebody, anybody, even Liam. I mean, a decent conversation, not one with sarcastic comebacks and snickers and utter stupidity. Maybe I wanted to know him better.

However, aforementioned, I woke up alone.

The reasonable thing I should do would be to throw a one-man party and just have fun, lolling over the place with food and confetti. Like, yay, no Liam! Woop woop! YOLO. I knew that I should do those stuff instead of this:

Panicking.

What could've happened to him? He was nowhere to be seen, no sign that he even lived here. His bed was fixed, the kitchen was clean, everything was completely bare.

I sat on the couch, trying to focus on the screen of the telly. I couldn't though. Different scenarios of what could've happened to Liam flashed in my mind. Him jumping from the window, him being abducted by aliens, him being turned into a zombie, just lurking outside the door. I knew I was just going insane, because, really, it wasn't healthy for me to be left alone with my thoughts. Ever since I was a kid, my ideas would just go from comical to down-right absurd. The scenarios running through my brain were no exceptions.

All was well.

Liam did not commit suicide, nor was he abducted by aliens, and never ever ever in my wildest dreams never would he turn into a zombie. He wasn't lurking just by the door, his eyes hollow and face mushed in goo and blood, waiting for me to come outside so that he could attack and feed on my flesh.

Zombies weren't real . . . right? I looked towards the door leading outside, my veins running cold and sweat forming on my forehead. Right. Zombies are just a figment of my imagination. They. Are. Not. Real.

I bit my lip, anxiety rising within my chest as my heart beat louder. Maybe Liam was just out, somewhere, within the mall? Maybe he was shopping, or maybe working out (he had told me there was a gym here). Maybe.

Maybe not.

I shook my head. No, Niall, you're being stupid again, zombies aren't real. Besides, even if they were, why would you care if Liam turned into one?

Nope. I didn't. Those absolute solid facts that zombies weren't real and that I didn't care if Liam transformed into one were what made my walls sturdy. What made me sit on the couch and not give a damn.

But just to check out . . . there would be no wrong in me trying to check these facts, right? Trying to prove that they are right, right? Nope. No wrong.

I clambered out of the couch and walked shakily towards the door. My throat was sand paper dry, my hands a bit sweaty. It seemed ages before I reached the door. I stared at it for a long while.