faded

35. 0 - still

"You're not putting up a fight," I hear him say, still keeping my distance in the vehicle, "I'm glad."

I look at him. "Why?"

"You've learned a valuable lesson, I hope."

For once in a long time, I really looked at him. I took in his empty eyes, once so full of love for me, his tired expression, the bags under his eyes indicating lack of sleep... who was this man? And why had I wasted so much time with him? Was I that afraid of being all alone? "Why do you hate me so much?"

My question caught him off guard, I could tell by the way he frowned in confusion.

This is all so familiar. I'm in this closed space with him headed off to the unknown, coerced as I tend to be by the older man. Despite my nerves and uncertainty I can say that I feel less afraid now. For some reason seeing him didn't impact me as it had before. I don't know if it was because all his bravado had faded away or because I was disillusioned, but I looked at him and could hardly understand why I ever loved him in the first place. It's almost embarrassing to admit that sometime I ever needed him.

Isn't this what happens to all young girls when they fall in love? Or better said, when they fall out? I saw him as someone untouchable and godly; now he was reduced to a sad, lonely man who I felt no pity (or love) for.

One thing hadn't changed though. I was still a world of trouble and now Harry had been subjected to it, no matter how good things had gotten. Maybe it wasn't built to last but I wanted it to and for the first time I wanted someone else in an unselfish way.

"Hate you?" he doesn't ask, though I can detect the indignation in his voice.

I can feel the resentment radiating off of him like energy. Maybe I had been very wrong in underestimating him, I think. He's destructive, perhaps hurt, a combination I know doesn't leave any survivors in the aftermath of the destruction.

"Are you in love with him?"

I look out the window as we pass by an endless array of snow coated scenery.

Am I? It was hard to tell. I knew I loved Harry, but was I in love? Too soon. I knew for now that I was engulfed in something much more meaningful than whatever Zayn and I shared.

"Why do you ask?" His eyes burn into me and I feel his hand creep over mine, eventually settling on top of it.

I don't move it in fear of his reaction but I become very aware. I'm wide awake and forced to just watch his every move, more so to anticipate any kind of physical attack if I can.

I wish it wasn't like this. Why is it? Why does he have to come into my life if I don't want him in it?

"That's none of your business."

"Watch it," he warns, "what's gotten into you? I'm trying really hard not to snap but you're just making it more difficult. As always."

"You're making it difficult by not leaving me be. I don't want to be with you," I seethe, "is that what you wanted? To have me say it to your face?"

Zayn takes his hand off mine and stays very quiet, an indication that anything could go wrong. Despite not wanting to wake the beast, my anger is hard to control. It's not even anger anymore. It's gone from being mad to being in such a state of disbelief that I don't even understand how he's capable of what he does to me or anyone else.

"Why do you hate me so much? Why did you choose to fuck me up like this?"

Zayn's features soften a bit. "I don't hate you. I'm just messed up."

"I don't even know why I'm talking to you, Zayn. Nothing you say is the truth."

He chuckled, "Look who's talking."

I shake my head at him, choosing to ignore his commentary. "I've made an honest effort to change. I didn't hurt you like you hurt me, I confessed. Maybe it was fucked up, but looking back on it now, you deserved much fucking worse." I hate that I can feel tears forming in my eyes. "You ruined everything I was and you were proud of it. What do you have to say to that?"

"I still love you."