Insanity Bites |z.m| |h.s|

Chapter 57: Pattern

I lay in bed, curled up in fetal position as I stared at the blank wall before me. The sun was already beginning to shine through the curtains signalling that the night was over but I barely slept a wink.

My hand caressed the soft bruise on my neck as I thought of last night. Zayn had finally professed his true intentions for me and when those words left his mouth a part of me was dreading that he would do it right there and then.

But he never did. Instead he sunk his teeth into my neck whilst his hand sneaked up my shirt and placed itself firmly over my beating heart.

Like it belonged to him.

I was too stunned to resist. Too weak to fight back. His bite seemed to drain all my energy. All I could do was wait for him to finish. It wasn't even as painful anymore and I wondered if I was getting used to it.

When he was done I could barely move. Zayn had to carry me to bed where he tucked me in and then he got in as well. I remained still and lifeless as he placed one arm around me possessively, the other hand stroking my hair affectionately.

He was different this time. Possessive and needy and he kept mumbling incoherent sentences that made little to no sense to me. For a person who admitted to not being able to get drunk he sure did sound like one.

I remember sighing in pleasure as his hands ran through my hair in a soothing manner. His words were sweet like nectar as he praised me repeatedly. He went on about how beautiful I was and that he loved my long golden brown hair. 

How it reminded him of the three girls across the street who would give him the left over milk they couldn't sell so that he wouldn't starve to death. He whispered in my ears, his cool breath sending tingles down my neck.

He said they died because of the plague and he had somehow survived but he never got over their deaths. He had no home and no food and when the opportunity presented itself he had somehow ended up in New Orleans.

I really couldn't tell if he was making everything up or not. With Zayn I never knew but I listened anyway because there was really nothing else I could do. Despite being so weak I was surprisingly awake and my whole body was on edge as he hugged me like his life depended on it. 

I was afraid he would bite me again and drain me to death at any moment. 

He continued speaking in hushed whispers, tickling my skin as he spoke. He told me New Orleans was fairly underpopulated at the time and that it was just starting to liven up. He started working three jobs just to get by and his favorite was singing at one of the only bars in the busiest street.

He claimed he has a beautiful voice and that people would fill up the small dingy place whenever he sang. I found the whole thing slightly unbelievable and wondered if he was actually just telling me a bed time story he was making up.

I wanted to ask him to prove it by singing to me but that might have ended up in an argument I didn't want to have. So I decided to take his word for it. Maybe next time when I had more energy.

He then moved on to the time he met the first woman he ever dated. Golden brown hair with big doe eyes, he said she reminded him of those three girls. He never told me why they broke up, instead he went on rambling about all the other girls he dated with the same brown hair and I realized they made up quite the number.

It was easy to see why. Zayn was beautiful and I doubted anyone would be able to resist his charm, I only wondered why his relationships never lasted. I was about to ask him when he mentioned something about a rich blonde from the upper class.

His voice grew low and miserable as he talked about her. She had watched him perform one night had become obsessed with his voice and somehow that had eventually lead to his death.