faded

11.0 - cabin pt. one

We both walked in to the cabin with a nervous vibe hanging between us. It had changed. The once cozy and homey furniture had changed to a more modern design. Instead of looking like a cabin in the middle of the woods, it looked like an expensive home inside.

I hated this. Zayn knew it. I hated how he constantly needed to change things just to prove he could because he had money. I hated to think about money. I hated it. For as long as I could remember, money made the whole world spin in a different direction if you had it. My father sped through life throwing money at people to get his way and surely enough, that didn't matter in the end. It made him a monster.

Did my mother leave because of it? Or did she leave because she couldn't handle being with me anymore? As I ran my hand through the expensive, improved marble counter, thoughts of her intruded my mind. Was she alive? If she was, how was she living? Comfortably? Did she ever think of me?

Or was I just a thing of the past?

I felt Zayn wrap his arms around me from behind, letting them rest on my stomach. "So quiet."

"It looks really different."

Zayn pressed a kiss to my neck, sighing contently. "It's nice, right?"

"What did you do with the old stuff?"

"I had someone sell the antiques and throw out the rest."

I raised a brow, "Oh."

He didn't pick up on my low spirits. I had no idea why I was feeling like this, it seemed like thinking about my mother made me intolerable, but those thoughts alone were inevitable.

He led me upstairs, holding my hand tightly. The cabin was really clean and I felt as though someone else had been here.

Could Zayn have brought someone here?

"I also bought new stuff for our room. Do you like it?"

I smiled at how proud he looked. Zayn was a perfectionist and I know that it meant a lot to him to have the opportunity to get whatever he wanted since he didn't have it so easy growing up.

"It's all really nice," I observed the new bed, the dresser. The new TV was huge and I almost feared it would fall from where it was mounted on the wall.

I sat on the bed next to Zayn, holding his hand for comfort I didn't know I needed.

I thought about everything that had happened. How crazy had my life become ever since Zayn and I met? That seemed like it was another girl and not me. I wasn't the same. I couldn't stop thinking about my life before, specifically thinking back to seeing that old couple outside under the umbrella the day I met him. I thought it was so strange that they'd be under an umbrella in the rain, looking happy as ever with not a care in the world. It just seemed so weird to see something like that could exist when I had never experienced it.

"Would you love me if I was the girl I used to be?" I asked.

"What do you mean, love?"

I gave his hand a squeeze. "If I went back to being how I was, would you love me?"

"Of course, I love you no matter what. It was a different time."

"You wanted me to change and I did, now I don't even feel like me anymore."

Zayn scoffed, sitting up. "You were sleeping around and completely careless about your life. That wasn't you."

"What are you talking about?" I found myself getting angry at him for some reason. I sat up as well, burying my head in my hands. "You changed me so I could become the girl you wanted, not so I could be better."

"So what if I did?"

I looked at him in disbelief. "You're so selfish."

His eyes widened in surprise. Zayn smirked, almost as if he was trying to prove he was unaffected by it all. "What would have happened to you, Ana? Answer, because I'm honestly curious. If you changed, it's because you wanted to. Don't blame me."

I couldn't believe we were back to this. Granted, it had been because of me, but Zayn took it to another extreme. "Really? Because you sent me to your whorehouse and paraded me naked in front of all those men. You kicked me out in the pouring rain. You drugged me. You made me afraid of speaking and then wondered why I left. You took everything from me," I stood from the bed, walking over to the window. It was so gloomy outside. "I was in need of someone to pay attention to me, you knew that, and you took advantage of me."

I could feel his presence behind me, the simple touch of his hand on my shoulder made me feel smothered.

Maybe this was why we were getting nowhere. Maybe it was because I had learned to ignore everything he had done to me and only see what he wanted me to see about him. He was too close for comfort, yet I knew I'd fall for his words no doubt. Why?

Why did I love him after everything he had done?

"I know I'm horrible," Zayn said, "we both know I'm aware."

I sighed, shaking my head, and stepping away from him. He pulled me back, my body colliding with his. "You haven't changed one bit, though."

"I've changed," he answers, mostly trying to convince himself of his own lies. "I have."

There's something in his eyes that's burning me. It takes me back to the night he came home and showed me the video of him killing my godfather. It's a chilling, unforgettable gaze, like he's looking right through me. I have no secrets and I have no dignity when he looks at me that way.

I feel his warm lips crash into mine, the roughness of his movements unknown to me this way. His hands roamed me, pawed at me, making me melt into him. I could feel his teeth graze my bottom lip, a small moan left my mouth in a moment of desperation.

"Zayn," I whispered as he attacked my neck, the familiar biting not hurting as much as it would have before. "Stop, please."

"Want me to stop?" he mumbled against my neck, making my skin break out in goosebumps.

Why didn't I even care about him using me like this? Zayn always did what he wanted with me and threw me away afterwards. I needed him to learn boundaries. I needed him to respect my decisions, but how could he when I couldn't ever say no?