Addicted z.m

Chapter 37

Zayn's POV

"You're going to be okay," she promised. "Just stay with me baby, everything will be fine. They'll take care of you but you have to stay awake. You can't slip away from me."

Her voice was desperate but her fingers on the sides of my face were so gentle and calming.

Oh how I longed to just close my eyes and sleep. It was so inviting. I let my eyes shut and I could feel everything that was real fading away. There was nothing stopping me. There was no reason in the world to open my eyes; no reason to fight. Why fight when everything told me to rest and nothing pointed to fight?

"Zayn, no!" I could hear a scream. "You're not leaving me! I won't lose you too. Please. Open your eyes."

The invisible thing that told me to rest screamed louder but for some reason, I found myself listening to the softer voice. My eyes opened and suddenly I could feel everything; I could feel every reason why I wanted to rest in the first place.

Just as I was about to shut my eyes again, finding the pain unbearable, I felt something wet fall on my cheek. I was surprised that I even felt it; I was numb to everything but the pain in my chest and back.

I tried to open my eyes wider but failed.

I could just make out her red and pained face as another tear rolled off her cheek and onto mine. I became somewhat aware of my surroundings, or at least why I was in pain. There was a loud blaring noise that didn't help the pounding in my head and the ringing in my ears.

Every time I tried to put two and two together, I kept forgetting the other half of what I was trying to figure out.

"Is he going to make it?" she begged to someone.

"I can't be sure," an unfamiliar accent replied. "We won't know until we know where the bullet is. He's still breathing, not coughing up blood. That means his lungs are still in tact. But he has lost quite a large amount of blood."

"Please," she turned to me. "You promised. You promised we'd go home together. You can't leave me."

I screamed her name at the top of my lungs, causing the two bodies on either side of me to jump.

I was drowning in my own pool of sweat as I panted, gasping for air.

I felt a hand touch mine and I jumped in startlement. I met my mother's worried brown eyes and I took a moment to make sure I wasn't dreaming this time.

"Mum?" I whispered, just to be sure.

"I'm right here," she rubbed my hand. "Lay back. It's okay."

"Are you in pain?" Doniya asked from the other side of the bed.

It was then that I remembered where I was and why. The dream I had dreamt was anything but; it was a memory. A very vivid memory.

I needed her. I craved her touch and her comfort and her kiss.

"Do you need anything?" Mum asked.

I thought about her question a little too hard and when I tried to answer, the complete sentence I had thought up only came out as a single puffed gasp.

"What was that?" Doniya pressed.

I tried again but it came out in a single word: "Spencer."

"Hon," My mother squeezed my hand.

"Where-" I could feel my lungs replenishing. "Where is she?"

"Zayn," Doniya whispered. Déjà vu hit me.