faded

2.0 - vision of the past

"Zayn."

The way she says my name makes me uneasy. She stands there expectantly, my hands on the wall, trapping her. She grins like a little girl at the top of the world on a ferris wheel.

"Hmm?" I hum softly, resting my forehead against hers.

That pout, her lips, the soft pink mouth I've been craving all day is so close, so attainable.

"I'm happy you came back."

I frown. Did she think I wouldn't?

Her room is so interesting to be in. When she let me in, I didn't think that the house would be as quiet as it was. Of course, I knew her father was out of town for the weekend and I had promised I'd always come back.

"I found myself so... Unstable at work. Couldn't concentrate, really."

Anastasia raises a brow, almost challenging my statement. "Why's that?"

I close my eyes for a moment. "There's a girl in my life. The only one really. Just kept thinking about you, as you are right now, in my apartment, waiting for me every day."

"It was really good to hear your voice," she grins, sitting across from me as she has done so many times before.

She breaks me out of my trance and I mentally curse her for doing so. My memories seem so elusive these days and I need to hold onto them, I can't let those images disappear forever. It seems it's all I truly have left, the only thing of value that exists in my life right now.

"Thanks for meeting me here," I reply, forcing a pathetic smile.

We sat in a small café in Philadelphia, the lunch rush just finishing. Soft music played throughout and the atmosphere in general was somewhat cozy. I had been here so many times, but it all looked different this time, despite the lack of changes in the establishment.

I was so alone. I hardly slept. There had to have been some progress on my part before, when she was with me, because I felt myself falling back into the monster I was. It was just impossible to hide. Impossible to conceal myself behind a curtain of soft whispers and gentle touch. It wasn't me. I could love her, but not as much as the evil streak loved me.

Being without her was torturous, I needed her back. I needed to feel that again, I was so disconnected from my own emotions. Before, I felt her so close... It felt like my own skin, my own essence radiated off of her doll flesh. In a matter of months, it had gone from love to obsession.

"I really wanna fix us," she said to me, taking my hands in hers, ignoring her coffee. "I know it's all complicated but you know I don't wanna make your life difficult."

"You say that," I reply lowly, fishing my cigarettes out of my inner jacket pocket.

I can't bring myself to say her name.

I lit a cigarette, just as I always did here, eyeing the woman in front of me.

From the moment I spoke to her, I knew this was a very wrong. Ana hadn't been returning any of my calls for months, or letting me see her, so what could I do? I was basically waiting around for her to want me in the same way I wanted her. But it had been too long, I knew it was stupid of me to hope she'd reconsider.

But I love her. I miss her. I think of her when I sit alone in the apartment- where she once laughed, where she smiled at me, read her books, kissed me, loved me... She existed so perfectly there and she was gone. Gone. The only bright, sparkling thing I had... Left. Just as beautiful, untamed things do, Anastasia was fleeting.

She'd never love me in the same way. Whatever warmth I had- left me when she did. It was my fault. It all went back to the warehouse, seeing her so bare in front of those men as she had been in front of others so many times. But I knew Anastasia. I knew the secret she hid, which was the only reason I did that. She didn't know that I figured it out, and if she did, I know she'd be ashamed. I didn't want that, surprisingly, but I felt that shame for her. But hurting her, making her cry... There was no justification. I just did that. Something in me snapped so easily at her. What was the reason? I was cruel, evil. The only good part of me was her and even if she came back to save me, she'd suffer twice as bad. It's too late and even though I know she's better off, I am too selfish to let her be with someone else. It doesn't matter.

I don't care about getting my hands dirty. She knows better.

I hope she does. I fucking do.

"I didn't call you to fix shit, Amy."
The color drains from her falsely tanned face. In just one moment, I am conscious I've torn her dreams from her head that always seems to be in the clouds.

Time to be realistic, it wasn't happening before and definitely not happening after Anastasia.

"Why did you call me for?" Her voice is strained, all that confidence disappeared in the blink of an eye.

"I want you to help me with something."

My ex girlfriend chuckles dryly, clearly bothered by my intentions. "What makes you think I'd help you with anything?"

I shrug. "Don't ask stupid questions, it's irritating. You are going to help me because you work for me. I haven't fired you from your shitty secretary position at the other office, despite your tardiness and all the gossiping you do."

She bites her bottom lip, hard. I know she's embarrased by the way she looks at me, like I'm the most deplorable man in the world.

And I am.

"Fine," she agrees, I smile sweetly. "with what?"

"I want you to track down Anastasia's mother."