Garrix & Me (Martin Garrix Fanfiction)

Chapter 22

Zoe's POV

Martin brought a girl home. Bile rises in my throat at the thought of what they're doing but that familiar feeling of envy takes over. Is it Lisa? Something tells me she doesn't have such a high pitched shriek.

However, the logical part of my brain takes charge and knocks some sense into me. Yes, I want to know who it is, more than anything, I want to walk up to that door, break it down and yank her hair out. But that would technically be me running after Martin and caring about what he does. It would also involve me having to talk to him and be around him which would go against my vow of being done with him.

I'm going to ignore him, I'm not going to give the stupid things he does any attention. Hopefully when my father gets out of hospital, he'll kick him out or something. The annoying thing is I know, without a doubt, that when my father comes home he's going to need to recover and having Martin around doing things to cause him stress will result in me running after him again.

I let out a sigh of frustration and drop my keys onto the counter. I realize I'm starving and grab the box of leftover pizza. Food never fails to make me feel better.

After eating and binging on every bit of junk food I could find, which isn't much since my mother's big on the whole organic eating thing, I head up the stairs. I almost puke at the moans sounding from behind Martin's door down the hallway and as much as I want to escape them, my room is adjacent to his. The moans only get louder as I reach my room.

I pull off my jeans, practically yanking them off my feet, and replace my sweater with an old t-shirt, pairing it with my comfiest sweats. Only when I snuggle into bed do I catch a whiff of cinnamon.

These are Martin's sweats.

I want to take them off but I can't. I'm too tired to even move and besides, they're more comfortable than any pair I own. A smile escapes my lips as I fall asleep thinking about this morning, about playful Martin.

However my dreams are transformed to nightmares, clouded with images of Ian's hands roaming my body, my screams being muffled by something or someone and the overpowering smell of cigarettes whisks through.

The boy clad in all black never comes.

*

I open my eyes slowly, squinting at the brightly lit windows in front of me. The sky is devoid of all sunlight yet bright in that horribly harsh way. I shut my eyes before snuggling into the covers and scooting into the warmth emanating from behind me. I probably turned on the heated blanket last night, I think lazily.

But something, someone, moves and the mattress shifts slightly. My eyes snap open and before I know it, I'm struggling to get out of Martin's grip.

Martin sighs, his eyes still closed and pulls me closer. He's too strong and my hands grow weak trying to pry his arm from around my waist. Part of me wants to just close my eyes and enjoy the feeling of comfort and safety with him next to me but last night replays in my head.

"Martin, get off of me!" I yell, literally using all my strength to turn my body to face him, I place my hands on his chest and push him as hard as I can.

Martin's eyes snap open and I don't know whether he's momentarily shocked from being awoken so suddenly or caught off guard but he lands on the floor next to the bed with a loud thump.

"What the fuck.." I hear him mutter sleepily, but his signature growl is hidden just beneath.

I spring out of the bed, a thousand questions flying through my head. Why the hell is he in my room? Wasn't he with a girl last night? Maybe I'm dreaming. I'm going insane.