Cassette - z.m.

five.

"She doesn't even know how to hold a paintbrush."

• • •

"You know I'm not gonna hurt you or anything, right?" He raises his eyebrows at me, asking for confirmation.

"Yeah but we can never be too sure because you might be a real criminal for all I know." I smirk at him while rotating the bat in my hand.

I don't know if what I'm doing is right or not. I don't know how to deal with a thing like this so I'll deal with it the way, I think, is the best. We know what's happening in the world these days and I don't want to take any chances. I know I'm no one to judge the guy and he doesn't even look like a criminal, he's more like a supermodel or something, what with the leather jacket and all.

He rolls his eyes at me once and sighs deeply, obviously sick of me already. "I've said it once and I'm saying it again. I am not a criminal. Please stop calling me one. I'm trying to be civil, alright?" He shoots me a glare. That's all we've been doing for the past- what? Forty-five minutes? Yeah and yelling.

"Okay, jeez. I was kidding. Relax," I raise my arms in surrender. "So, are you gonna tell me who are you? Why are you here? And why the hell do you have so many tattoos?" I lean in and narrow my eyes at one of his tattoos peeking out from the neck of his t-shirt. It looks like wings, oh and there's a lip-stick stain tattoo between them.

"Stop staring." He says in a monotone voice.

I back off a bit and shake my head, embarrassed that I got caught. "Yeah, so who are you?"

"Zayn."

"O...kay. Why are you here?"

"To scare the crap out of you. I am a thief. Remember?" He flashed me a sarcastic smile.

"Stop being sassy and tell me would you? I really don't have the time for your shenanigans so just..." I stifle a yawn. I'm still exhausted. Once I hit the mattress, I'm not gonna wake up for a week. Mark my words.

"Maybe we can talk in the morning? You should sleep." He says softly. My eyes are halfway closed but I don't want to take a risk so I force them open. Why is he being like that anyway? He doesn't have to be considerate. It's not like I know him or he knows me.

Maybe he does.

There it is again; the voice. I automatically flinch when I hear it. It's like a reflex action. I try to look around the room as discreetly as possible but my flinch didn't go unnoticed, I suppose.

"Are you okay?" The guy asks me, his eyes filled with concern. Maybe he thinks I'm insane? "Are you hurt or anything? Do you want me to call a doctor maybe?"

"What is it with you guys and doctors? Geez," I say, annoyed at him and that dumbass voice. "I'm okay. Did you say something before that- the.. vo-that.. the flinch?"

Take deep breathes, girl. You should be used to it by now. It's nothing. You need to sleep, you're just imagining things, I tell myself all that crap in my mind and my heartbeat slows down a bit.

"I was saying maybe you should sleep. We can talk in the morning." He replies as he hands me a glass of water from the nightstand.

"No! We will talk right now so that I can kick you out of the damn house and sleep." I kind of lash out at him, suddenly irritated. My patience is thinning and I really don't have time for this. I take a sip from the glass and take a deep breathe.

"Alright, tiger. Calm down, yeah?" He eyes me carefully.

"Don't tell me what to do." I frown at him. "Now, let's take it one step at a time. Okay? So first, who are you?"