Burn in Water, Drown in Fire

Burn in Water, Drown in Fire ~36~ Right Now

~36~ Right Now

(Angel’s POV)

To Zac: I can’t do this

I sent that text to him as soon as woke up.

Why would I risk my reputation and sanity to last only a day with him? According to him, it was the drug that wanted me.

But even though he said that and I responded by saying I never wanted him, I was lying.

“Hello…” I muttered, talking into my phone when he called me.

“Sweetheart,” his voice said calmly. “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t do this today,” I repeated. Not to mention he would choose what I’d wear…

“Open up,” he said randomly before hanging up and then I heard the doorbell ring. Why was he here so early?

I heard my mom answer the door with a “Zachariah?” and then I realized that I looked like crap. Sh!t, sh!t, sh!t. I started to leave my room, in my childish pajamas, and then my mom caught me.

“Angel, honey?” My mom called up. “Zachariah’s here. He’s coming up.”

Ugh, Mom!

I stopped my commute to the bathroom and waited for Zac to take his final step up the stairs and be repulsed by my “morning-look”. When he reached the hall, my jaw nearly dropped. He looked gorgeous in dress pants and a dress shirt that was rolled up at the sleeves. D4mn…

“Good morning, beautiful,” he greeted, kissing me on the cheek.

He grabbed my hand and pulled me into my room.

“Clothes?” he asked. I kept quiet and he looked around for my closet. He didn’t even take a step before I grabbed his arm. Instead of denying me, he looked back to me with soft green eyes—held of confusion—and grabbed my waist. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“Why should I let you act like this when we’ve gone half a year without speaking because you’ve hated me?” I asked.

“I forgave Brian, so then I should forgive you,” he shrugged. He and Brian were back to hanging out less than a week after our fight though. It took him six months with me. Now I realized that I was the one wanting his forgiveness…

“That doesn’t excuse—”

He groaned as an interruption.

“You can hate me any other day of the year to make it up, okay?”

“That’s not what I—”

“Exactly,” he said, leaving me. He headed into my closet. I bit my lip.

“Hey, Zac?” I asked.

“Hmm?”

“You know I have a comfort zone right?” I asked, nervously.

“Alright so?” he asked, buried in my closet.

“I dress very…conservatively…”

He exited the closet and gave me a look.

“I’ve known you since grade school. You think I care?” he asked. Jerk. “Do you trust me?”

“Not really,” I admitted. Ever since the drug and the incident with Luke, I haven’t really trusted anyone.

He walked over to me and grabbed my hand, lightly.

“Learn to,” he whispered. I tried not to breathe this close to him as he searched my face. “Close your eyes.”

With hesitation, I did what he said. He let my grasp and I missed his touch, but heard him in my closet. I even heard him throw his choice on the bed. Then I felt his hands on the bottom of my shirt. I froze.

“Trust me,” he whispered. I took a deep breath and he started to pull my shirt off my body and then immediately pulled another t-shirt on. Then his hands moved to my waist. He planted a kiss on my cheek again and I started to continue to trust him—or at least try. His hands grabbed the waist of my stretchy pajamas and yanked them down. Now, I stepped out of them and he helped me into a pair of something else. I was too busy obsessing over him and his touches that I didn’t care about what pants they were. All I knew is that they were comfortable.

Then there were no touching and no sounds.

“What now?” I asked.

I felt his lips brush past my cheek for a second.

“You can open your eyes,” he allowed when he had pulled away.

I didn’t even look down on myself at first. I looked up to his face to find him wearing a blindfold. Wow. He didn’t even look at me naked. I hid a smile and helped him untie it. Then I looked down to what he chose. I laughed.

“Really?” I giggled.

“Yes,” he smiled, revealing dimples.

I was wearing one of my RIU t-shirts with a pair of black and white track pants that were too long for me because I didn’t own them. Maybe I did? Either way, I basically looked like a guy right now, or at least like someone who was taking some final exam on a relaxed day of school.

“You’re a punk,” I said, hitting his chest. He grabbed my waist and pulled me into him, roughly.

“I’m your punk, though,” he humored, starting to lean down and kiss me, but then stopped. “Well for today.”

I rolled my eyes and he let go of my waist.

“Well, I’ll go wait in the car…”

“Why?”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Because I’m not gonna awkwardly wait here while you do your girly things to get ready,” he snickered.

“I don’t do girly things to get ready,” I denied with a chuckle.

“Says the girl who wears pink and yellow Tweety pajamas,” he commented. I scoffed and threw a pillow at him. He kissed my cheek with a hand on my waist and then started to leave.

“Wait,” I called. He turned.

“You can stay in the living room or something,” I offered.

“Sure,” he smirked. “I’ll see you down there in a bit then…”

He left and then I started to wonder why he never acted this way with Lulu. He was actually…adorable. He made all my worrying get pushed to the back of my mind. After all, it was just for today.