HIGH

Chapter 47. Leave

AUTHOR’S NOTE: This is where things are going to get a bit confusing but as the story progresses you’ll begin to understand how things are going to play out. I’d also like to add that this story is entirely fictional. I don’t believe that the people who portray these characters would ever act in the ways I have written them to be! So yeah, I hope you like how the story is turning out!

 My head fucking hurt. It felt as if my skull was about to explode. That ridiculous fight we had in the car had only fueled the resentment and anger I felt towards Zayn. I had decided I couldn’t trust him. There was no good in it. It was getting so tiring with him and everything that was going on. Not to mention none of it made sense.

Much to my embarrassment, I had ended up falling back asleep in the front seat. I don’t even remember dozing off. To further my embarrassment/defeat Zayn had carried me from the car to his bedroom. I woke up under mountains of blankets and Zayn staring at me with curious eyes.

He was sitting in a leather chair in the corner of the room that I had never even noticed it being there before. His elbows rested upon his knees and his hands were holding his head. I didn’t say anything to him. I only watched as he visibly relaxed when he realized I was awake.

“You fell asleep and you were shivering.” Zayn grumbled. There was no trace of kindness in his face. He was rigid now in his chair.

I didn’t mutter a ‘thank you’ or show any kind of gratitude towards him. I didn’t owe him anything.

The tension between us was still present. I was mad at him; he was mad at me over something stupid. It was the same cycle, same routine.

He stood up abruptly from his chair and began pacing back and forth. Clearly, there was something bugging him but I didn’t care.

 I couldn’t even say that this was a step backwards in our progress in our ‘relationship’. We didn’t have any progress during the days we’ve spent together. We weren’t friends. There was no two steps forward then one step backwards. The closest I’d ever been to him was when he was drunk; who even knows if what he said was true. He refused to talk to me as if I were a normal person let alone his equal. And it was getting so fucking tiring not knowing what was going on.

We have nothing. All we have was the meaningless sex and even then it didn’t bring us closer. It was revolting for me to even think something like that could possibly change things. I was raised better than to rely on sex to fix things.

“Look, it’s better if you don’t even know. I’m doing this to help you!” He threw his hands up as he talked.

I watched him in silence while doing my best to hold my tongue. He wasn’t doing anything to help me. He was ruining me. I was fine before him. If this was some sick joke in his head it wasn’t funny anymore. I’m done with it all. I want to go home.

“Just go on and say something, you’re bound to do it whether I tell you to or not.” He told me sourly.

“I don’t know you. We are not friends. I am not here, in your house, as a guest or because I want to be. We were nearly shot to death at your last house and now for some reason I can’t remember what happened at the dinner. You don’t tell me anything. At all. I’m completely clueless and I’m always so fucking confused it literally makes my head hurt. Why am I even here? You don’t want me here. I don’t want to be here. You’re making things difficult for yourself.” I finished sharply. I didn’t want to yell. Yelling would make my headache worse. I prayed Zayn would keep a level head.

“You’re not happy here.” Zayn stated. His eyes clouded in confusion and he stopped pacing. The cluelessness in his voice sent my blood boiling.