Monsters Inside Him (Completed)

Chapter 56: Delusional

 Chapter 56: Delusional

Bottoms up, bottoms up,
Every single cup,
Got a couple bottles, but a couple ain’t enough,
Bottoms up, bottoms up,
Throw your hands up,
Tell security we’re bout to tear this club up.

I brought my phone in with me so I could listen to music while I showered. Zayn hated my habit of doing that. I had lost multiple cell phones because I accidentally knocked a few in the toilet, or in the sink while the water was on.

But for the most part I liked to jam out in the shower. I can’t sing for shit, at least not like Zayn, so I resort to playing music off of my iPhone.

I turned off the shower and stepped onto the cool tile. I reached out and rubbed some of the steam off the mirror.

After Harry approved our marriage, I literally felt like leaping out of my chair and jumping on him. I somehow managed to control myself and settled with smiling like a madwoman.

Zayn’s response was to turn around, completely serious, and tell me to go off with some guy named Josh. Upon order, a boy about my age led me up to Zayn’s room.

Normally, I’d get pissed that Zayn was so emotionless about everything, but I was too happy to care.

His room was pretty much the same as it was at his old apartment before I moved in. It was neat, black and white, and flavorless. It didn’t have any character. The only picture in the whole room was on the nightstand and it was of me and him.

I almost teared up looking at it.

I tried to brush out my hair with Zayn’s comb, but I ended up snapping it in half. My brush was in my unpacked suitcase that was god-knows-where. I had to settle with my hair in a mess of tangles, knotted tightly on my shoulders.

“Hannah!” My attention was drawn to the door when I heard Zayn call for me from his bedroom. I quickly shut off my music, knowing he’d get mad I put another phone at risk, and wrapped myself up in a towel, just in case someone else was out there with him.

I opened the door just as Zayn was about to knock on it. He looked at me for a moment, his hazel eyes locked on mine before a huge grin broke out on his face.

“Hi Darlin’.” His voice was smooth and low and made me want to melt.

“Hi.” I managed to squeak out. His eyes traveled over my body and then snapped back up to my face.

“Where’d your clothes go?” He teased, reaching his arm out so his hand could grasp my forearm and tug me closer.

“I took a shower.” I stated the obvious. My brain wasn’t working right so I couldn’t come up with a snarky comment.

“Were you listening to Trey Songz in there?” He asked, his brows furrowing slightly. I rested my head on his shoulder, staining his black long sleeved t-shirt with my wet hair.

“Maybe.”

“And how many more phones are you going to ruin until you realize that bringing electronics to the toilet is a bad idea?”

“At least one more.”

He let out a sigh, but I could tell he didn’t want to press the matter any further. We had better things to discuss. His arms constricted around me and a kiss was placed to my head.

“You smell good.” He noted, deeply inhaling the scent of my shampoo. Well, actually it was his shampoo because my shit was still packed up.

“How are you?” I asked him gently as he let go of me so I could sit down on his –I guess it’s our- bed.

“How do you think I’m doing? I just got the ok to marry my girl. Get dressed, I wanna go celebrate.”

I looked down at the towel wrapped around my body for a moment before I felt a burst of courage and dared myself to challenge him.

“I have another way we could celebrate that doesn’t require any clothes.” I tried to say it as seductively as I could, but I couldn’t help the blush that rose to my cheeks after I so obviously suggested it. I thought it’d be a pretty good way to celebrate since Zayn and I had only done… it once.

It was clear on his facial features that he had no idea what I was talking about.

Zayn hadn’t touched me in a long time. I mean sure, we hugged and kissed a lot, but it wasn’t really kissing. It wasn’t what I wanted him to do, what we used to do. Hardly any tongue, no making out, no touching, no groping, nothing.

Ever since he rescued me it had been like that. It was like he was too afraid to touch me, to hurt me, to break me. And at first, I was thankful, but then I had to live two months without his touch so I craved it more than ever.

“Zayn, seriously. What are all the activities we could take part in that don’t involve clothes?” I deadpanned, the rosiness of my embarrassment remaining as clear evidence on my cheeks.

He stared at me dead in the eye for a moment, and then he got it. Confusion contorted into something else, an emotion I couldn’t read.

“Oh… OH! Oh, Darlin’- I don’t think so.” My face burned even hotter at the rejection and I found my bottom lip starting to jut out. I had to bite down on it to prevent it from quivering.

“No, you’re not ready for that. Not even close.” He said softly. He crouched down in front of me so that, with my seat on the bed, I had to look down at him. His hand rubbed my knee soothingly, obviously trying to rid me of the disappointment and mortification written across my face.

I wasn’t going to give up that easily.

I stood up, right in front of him, and let my towel drop. My body was dripping wet (in more senses than one) and I could tell how flustered he was getting.

“Dammit.” He cursed out as he leapt to his feet and spun around so that his back was to me. His breathing was haggard and uncontrolled. I looked down at my body and noticed all of the scars left over from Jay.

I instantly regretted what I did.

Zayn was probably repulsed by me. My scars were littered all over my body, but I had covered them pretty well until I dropped my towel. Why did I think he’d want me? I’m broken now. I’m used.

I should’ve known.

“I-I’m sorry.” I stuttered out, tears forming in my eyes. I didn’t want to cry, but I couldn’t help it. The old me didn’t cry this much, but I was so damn emotional.

Of course Zayn wouldn’t want to touch me. Another man penetrated me, used me. I was scarred and fucked up. Why did I think he’d want me? Why?

I quickly gathered up my towel and wrapped it around me tightly. I saw Zayn turn around and focus his intense gaze on me, but I refused to look him in the eye. I rushed over to the dresser and pulled out Zayn’s sweatpants and pulled them up under the towel. I went on the lookout for something to pull over my head, but just as I reached for a t-shirt, a hand caught mine.

“Why are you crying?”

I hadn’t even realized that the tears I had built up were rolling down my cheeks until he pointed it out. He pulled my hand against his chest, while my other one gripped tightly on the towel hiding my scarred torso from him.

“I-I don’t know.” I lied, pulling my hand back to my body so I could grab the fabric of the shirt. I stepped away from him to put it on over my towel, but he took the clothing right from between my fingers and threw it behind him.

“Did I upset you, Darlin’?” He questioned, leaning towards me.

“No.”

“Yes, I did. I didn’t mean to reject you, I just…” He trailed off, not sure of what to say or how to phrase it.

“It’s fine, I understand. I don’t look like I used to. I get it.” I shrugged it off, reaching for another t-shirt, which was also torn away from my hands. I looked up at Zayn, who seemed confused and angry and sad all at the same time.

“What are you bloody talking about?” He snapped. I flinched at his tone, shocked out how furious he was at me just for agreeing with him.

“I just- er, I mean I figured that’s why you didn’t want to… you know.” His hand grabbed my face roughly, catching my off guard as he squeezed my jaw tightly. I gripped onto the wet towel to prevent it from slipping down. That would be the last thing I needed.

“What the fuck? You think I don’t want to sleep with you because you LOOK different?! Hannah, are you fucking delusional?” He was literally squeezing me too tightly, but I managed to get something squeaked out.

“I guess you could add that to the list of reasons why you don’t want to sleep with me: I’m delusional.”

His eyes were blazing and then suddenly I was stumbling backwards, falling down on the bed, with Zayn on top of me.

I let out a quiet grunt when my body bounced slightly on the mattress, but Zayn’s lips silenced me with a gentle but sloppy kiss.

“What are you talking about?” He demanded, his hands pinning my shoulders down. I gripped onto the towel even tighter, trembling slightly at the closeness of our bodies. We haven’t been like this since… well, since before I was kidnapped.

I stared back up at him with wide eyes, unsure of what he wanted me to say. I felt like a deer in headlights. Didn’t he want me to agree with him?

“Dammit, answer me!” He shouted again.

“I-I- isn’t that the reason? Aren’t I repulsive? Don’t my scars turn you off?” I questioned him, sounding surprisingly innocent. A crease formed between his eyebrows.

“Darlin, shut up.” He commanded, immediately I clamped my mouth shut and let my eyes meet his timidly.

“That’s not the reason at all. Not. At. All. You’re so fucking beautiful. And those scars are hardly even noticeable. Even if they were, they’re your battle scars. They’re proof of your strength. If anything, they add to your beauty.”

I shook my head, not believing what he was saying at all. He just wanted to make me feel better, but I’d rather he just give me the truth. If he thought I was so beautiful, then why would he reject me?

It made no sense.

He made no sense.

“You have no idea. You look like a goddess. And I’m even more enthralled by you than I was before. You’re gorgeous. How many times do I have to tell you that before you start believing it?”

I didn’t respond to him, knowing he’d just talk over me anyways, so I didn’t think there was a point in even trying.

“You’re just- dammit, you get me so worked up and I just want to touch you and hold you all the time, Darlin’, but I can’t!” I blinked a few times, trying to process his words.

“Then why don’t you?” I challenged softly. If he wants to touch me all the time, then what was holding him back? It’s not like I was preventing him. I mean, I practically just threw myself at his feet in the nude, and he turned me down.

“BECAUSE I CAN’T! I can’t touch you or kiss you or hold you like I want! I can’t just grab you and make you bend to my will and feel what I want you to, and just make love to you nonstop. You have no fucking clue how hard it is to resist you, especially when you’re stubborn and annoying. Hell, I can barely even control myself now.”

“I’m not asking you to control yourself.” I whispered, letting my one hand creep up to his cheek while the other gripped onto the towel tightly. I tilted my head back into the comforter so I could look him straight in the eye.

“Never mind, I’m not talking about this.” He grumbled, getting off of me quickly and stumbling back a few feet. I got off of the bed slowly, to make sure my towel didn’t slip. I walked right in front of him and reached for the t-shirt he had discarded before.

He didn’t stop me as I slipped it over my head and pulled the towel out from underneath the fabric.

“I’m sorry I upset you.” I told him coolly before I marched off into the bathroom. I barely had time to pick up his comb again before he was in the doorway, watching me. I ignored him for a good thirty seconds as I worked to part the tangles at the edges of my hair.

“Can I help you?” I asked, my patience lasting about half a minute.

“You shouldn’t apologize, Darlin’. You have nothing to apologize for.”

I rolled my eyes at him through the mirror, but I refused to turn around and actually look at him. I felt him watching me closely.

“I’m sorry that I’m your charity case and that you feel so bad for me that you’re forcing yourself to be with me. It’s not your fault this happened to me.” I told him calmly, though neither of us could deny the intense ferocity in my voice.

“What the fuck are you-”

“That’s why you won’t sleep with me.” I concluded, interrupting him but not really caring too much.

“I just went over this with you.”

“You were lying.” I spun around and pointed the comb at him accusingly. I knew he didn’t want to touch me. He called me beautiful to make me feel better, but if he actually wanted to touch me like he said he did, we’d be fucking right now, not arguing.

“Ok, fine. You want to know why I can’t touch you?” He questioned harshly. He grabbed my wrist and yanked me against him. I felt his hands close in on my midsection and I braced myself against his chest.

“Every time I kiss you or hug you, I feel you shudder. I know that being touched by a man brings back painful memories and I don’t want to put you through that again.”

I wanted to deny it, but I knew it was true. He had just touched my wrist to pull me in and I felt a chill go up my spine. But I didn’t think they were shivers over fear, but of pleasure.

I LIKE Zayn’s touch.

So sue me.

“So what? We’re going to get married and never have sex? Did you even think this through?” I snarled back, pushing against him to try to get him to let go, but failing epically. Like always.

“No, I just… I figured we could work into it. Go slow.”

“Zayn, we’ve been together for a year and have had sex like once, I think that’s pretty fucking slow, if you ask me.” I snorted. Zayn pulled me gently back into the bedroom and set me down on the bed.

“Slow, Hannah.”

“Shouldn’t it be the girl withholding sex, not the other way around?” I groaned.

“Look, you probably don’t remember when I first brought you home after everything happened. But I do, I remember. I remember looking between your legs and you reacting by kicking me because you thought I was him. That fucking killed me and I refuse to make you go through that again.” He told me with as much determination as he could. I saw the fierce blaze in his eyes and realized he wasn’t giving in.

“How slow is slow?” I sighed in annoyance.

“I don’t know.” He snapped, his aggravation growing.

“If it’s going to be a year again, then I don’t know if-”

“I DON’T FUCKING KNOW!” He shouted, catching me off guard completely. I flinched at the sudden change in his voice.

“You think I WANT to be a fucking prude! I can’t be a fucking man with my girlfriend!” He grabbed the thing nearest to him, which happened to be a CD case, and chucked it against the wall with such force that it fractured the plastic case, splitting it in fourths, and shattering the CD inside.

His eyes glanced over to me as I shuffled back on the bed, but then he turned away from me.

“GOD DAMMIT!” He roared, sending his boot straight through the wall. The dry wall crumbled into a six inch diameter hole. It wasn’t deep enough to see through to the next room, but it was big enough to see piping.

I shuffled even further back on the bed until I was seated on the pillows. I hadn’t seen Zayn become so violent so fast in a long time. I guess I forgot the brute force he possessed and how fast he could lose control of his temper.

“Shit…” He grumbled, running his large hands through his hair. He chewed on his lip nervously and looked over at me, more scared than I think I have ever seen him.

I gripped onto the pillows and blankets around me and shook my head. Why did he look so scared?

He took three steps towards me and held his hands up in surrender. He stopped moving and got down on his knees. I stared at him, he was about five feet away and kneeling near the bed, his eyes wide and darting from my face to my hands nervously.

I just continued to watch him, unsure of what was going to happen next.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, “I’m so sorry.” He clasped his hands together in an act of begging. It was strange, seeing him on the ground before me, seeming so small and pleading.

“Please, Darlin’, please don’t be afraid of me.”