The rest of the ride is so fucking silent. Every time I'd he'd say my name to try to get my attention, or try to hold my hand, anything, I'd just grow more irritated. To say I was annoyed once the driver pulled up to the cabin was the biggest understatement in history. When we pulled up, I opened my door and got out, not even taking in the surroundings, and trudged up to the front porch.

I rolled my eyes at Zayn, who just watched me for a moment.

Perhaps it was our exchange of words or my sudden realizations that were making me very angry. I felt betrayed, by Harry, by Liam. I had begun to hate Zayn for not seeing how they set me up, he was so stupid for trusting them. I started to hate him for treating me like shit, but did I ever leave? I came crawling back, just like he said I would. Maybe he knew me better than I knew myself. But what could I do? Shopping with Liam had been a nightmare. It was dead silent, like both of us didn't know what to say and didn't want to say anything. So we didn't. And Harry didn't even show up.

I had so much to say, to both of them, all so they could both give me the silent treatment in different ways. I hated this. Everything felt different between Zayn and I because of a stupid mistake I had made. I had to confront Liam and Harry, I needed to in order to try to move on. I just needed explanations, but I know I wouldn't get them if I was fearful of the truth I desperately wanted.

The cabin was giant. The porch that wrapped around the whole house had been cleaned up from excess autumn leaves. The windows were cleaned and the wooden exterior looked polished as ever. It was too big for us both, especially because he wanted me close and I wanted him far away.

I walked up the steps, already dreading the rest of the week and his attitude. He really caught me off guard in the car, all that other shit he said was so stupid, but I brushed it off easily, hoping somehow that this would eventually blow over.

In the back of my mind I knew that I didn't like Zayn right now because he was being so nice. It was something so strange, how one could be addicted to suffering. It wasn't healthy, either. But I wouldn't be the first masochist in the world and wouldn't be the last. Zayn was the same way, I knew it. But something had changed. I was playing a game now, just like he had been playing with me. I wasn't vengeful, not like he was, but I wanted to fuck with him. I wanted him to suffer like he had made me suffer.

I stood there with my arms crossed, waiting for Z to unlock the door. I could hear the driver opening the trunk to get our things, but he wasn't looking back at him. I just looked far off into the distance, the endless forest eerie and suspicious.

He unlocked the door, fumbling with the keys at first. I walked in unaffected and immediately looked around, getting a feel of the place.

"How do you like it?" I heard him ask, his tone a bit happier, "Our room is upstairs."

I raised a brow. "It's nice, I guess."

I could tell Zayn had gotten people to clean the place up, everything in here looked polished and brand new. He wanted it to be comfortable for me.

And I'm such a shitty person.

Zayn shook his head, already irritated. "You really need to cut the attitude, patience is running low. It's getting old, Anastasia."

I sigh. "I'm not even doing anything. Chill out."

He shook his head, almost in disbelief, walking into the kitchen. I heard a lighter and I assumed he was smoking already. It was like a nervous habit. I followed after him and surely enough, he took a drag of his cigarette angrily.

He looked at me, "I don't know what happened to my girl."

"I'm right here," I answered nonchalantly, as if he was asking me a question.

"No, this isn't the girl that I want. I don't want this girl at all."

His words hit me like a ton of rocks in the chest. A feeling of desperation spread across my insides, my stomach flopped nervously, making me so uncomfortable. The air was suddenly very dry. But I could ignore it, I had grown incredibly skilled at ignoring real emotions.

"What are you saying?" I retorted.

"Nothing, Ana, nothing," Zayn answered, taking another deep drag.

He looked so upset, the guilt I had felt before multiplied. "You're only happy when you can treat me like a child."

"Yeah, so what? Maybe I treat you that way because I want you to feel like I'll protect you like one. Maybe," he gulps, "maybe I just want to give you all the love you've never had. Fucked up way of showing it, I know, but I can't change. I'm a lost cause."

His words sting as if I'm the one speaking them. Amongst all his anger and repressed anxieties, I see his vulnerability. I want to reach out for him, I want him to hold me, but I'm so rooted to my spot.

"I'm a lost cause, too."

Zayn lets out a chuckle. "I don't know what to do, really. This is me telling you that maybe we're better off without each other. All I do,"

The man takes a few steps and he's suddenly right in front of me, gripping my arm right. "... is fuck you up."

His pink mouth is so close to my own, I was finding it very hard to even speak. "Whatever. You know I want to be with you."

"Do you? Doesn't really seem like it. I told Amy that I never wanted to see her again, you know? I introduced her to lots of things, a lifestyle not even you know of yet. But here I am, trying to protect you from that world... my world. The truth is ugly, Anastasia, but I've told you it. And I haven't received the same from you."

His fingers caress my cheek, my jaw, eventually parting my lips. I'm frozen at the gesture.

"Why'd you run away? If you knew you were going to come back?"

I search his eyes for an ounce of genuine vulnerability, but it disappears almost as soon as it began to show. "I didn't know you'd look for me."

He raises a brow. "Who helped you?"

"Some friends," I answer, experiencing a fear I've never known before in my life. "Why didn't you tell me about Gemma?"

He closes his eyes, taking in my answer and question. He's angry, I can see it. He grips my wrist tightly, dragging me out of the kitchen and down the hallway.

"Where are we going?"

"Upstairs," he says, "you fucked up, you really did."

And so we go up the stairs, I'm tripping on my own feet trying to keep up with his pace. "It's not what you think. I just went with her, but I didn't have a plan afterwards."

He pulls me into a large bedroom- the California King bed is adorned with white sheets, there's white curtains, everything in here is beautiful in mahogany and white silk. But Zayn's anger doesn't see the beautiful things, he only seeks to destroy them right now.

And he does when he grabs a vase and throws it against the wall, the shards of glass flying on the hardwood floors. I feel as if he's going to continue when he looks at me with his fiery eyes, but instead, he sits on the corner of the bed.

"Tell me this - were you running off with someone else?"

I kneel in front of him, putting my hands on his knees and looking at him. "I don't know."

"I don't know what to say. I need a miracle right now, to get this obsession off me."

"You're the only person that I want to be with, you're what I've been waiting for my entire life."

Both of his hands cup my face, "You're what I've been dreading. I'll ask again, were you running off with someone else?"

"No."

He looks tired. Zayn stands up from his spot, leaving me on the floor. I stand also, taking his spot on the bed.

Seeing him all worked up was the plan originally, but I've dug myself into a hole. Manipulating him, hurting him on purpose isn't fun at all, in fact, it hurts to see him so upset over the lies I've been telling him. But what can I do now? He'll never trust me again after this.

He sniffles. I can't ignore how fucking badly I'm torn up. He paces around the room. Everything around me suddenly grows dark, my head is pounding. I feel as if I could cry, or beg, maybe.

"I'm sorry," I say quietly.

"I hope you've had your fun," he answers, "I don't know what to do to keep you by my side right now. You know, I don't even care about the fact that you keep being dishonest?" his voice is pained, "All I care about is you, Ana."

"I hate it when you're like this," I find myself saying, not even thinking about how horrible it sounds, "you're being so weak, Zayn. You said downstairs that this wasn't the girl you wanted, well, you're not the man I want."

He looks appalled. "See, I'm not the problem here. You are. You complain that I treat you like shit but you fucking like it. Is this all a game to you?"

"No," I answer.

"Come here," Zayn commands.

I do.

He presses me against the wall in a quick movement, making sure that he traps me by pressing his body against mine. My heart beat increases.

"This is the last time you think of me as a idiot, I promise you that, Anastasia," his promise gives me shivers, "If you think that I'm weak, we'll see what you think you are."

I'm momentarily confused by his reaction, but my confusion is short lived when he starts to kiss my neck as if nothing is wrong. This is a dangerous game he's playing with me, like he's the cat and I'm the mouse.

"Who were you running off with?" He whispers against my skin, raising goosebumps.

"No one," I stutter, feeling his hands slide under my shirt.

His movements are so slow and I can't help but moan out softly when he sucks on my neck. "Tell me why you ran off then."

"I wanted your attention."

Z-

It's so easy for her to admit to being desperate for my attention, due to her desperate actions. Part of me feels disgusted, because I'm as guilty for this as she is. But how much attention does she want from me? What else can I do? I try to fix things and she thinks I'm weak.

Amy once told me that the only reason women wanted me was because I possessed the traits of a dangerous man, a true monster. I never believed her, it was hard to imagine why she said that about me. But I believed her now. Because I didn't know what I was capable of doing now that Anastasia thought I was weak. Is that all she saw in me? A weak, broken man? Is that why she left truly?

"Of course you did," I bit down on her neck, catching her cries of panic when I dug my teeth deeper.

"You're hurt-hurting me!" she tried shoving me off her, with no such luck. "Zayn, stop!"

I forcefully pressed my lips to hers, her unresponsive mouth annoying me for a few moments until she responded fearfully and slowly. My curious hands roamed all over her, pawing her roughly through her clothes. This made her uncomfortable. I didn't care. I had a desperate need to feel her, but feeling her pressed against me wasn't enough. Anastasia only kissed me harder, probably ignoring her own discomfort. I hated this as much as she did. I hated the fact that she was dishonest, I hated the fact that everyone else had her, I hated the fact that she played with my emotions, but I hated that I wanted her still. I wanted Anastasia more than I had ever thought possible. Something about her was so addicting to me- perhaps it was her child-like mannerisms, her soft touch, how bad she needed me. I needed her, too.

I loved her so much more than she knew. But my pride was greater than that love, I tried to make myself believe that.

This obsession with her was driving me insane.

I bit down on her lip, tasting a metallic liquid from her lips. Anastasia pulled away, tears falling down her cheeks freely like little waterfalls. "You fucking hurt me!"

I chuckled, watching her newly terrified eyes look at me in search of some warmth. "Oh? You don't like it?"

She stays silent. "Answer me when I ask you something, Anastasia."

"No, I don't."

As per usual, she buried her head in my chest, my shirt catching all the tears that began to escape rapidly from her eyes. We could have been so good together, we could have been so good.

"I love you," she hiccups. "I didn't mean what I said."

"I think you did," I sigh, "I'm sorry I bit you."

Anastasia looks up at me, "I want us to be like before."

She leads me to the bed, making me sit first and knowing me best, she sat on my lap. Right where I wanted her. I'm losing sight of me. Everything that just happened doesn't mean anything because she's right here. And that's all that fucking matters to me. That she won't go and I won't either, and that we'll be okay after all this, we'll go back to being us because that's the only thing we both want to do.

I find myself touching her thighs, amazed at how perfect someone's body can be. How perfect Anastasia is to me. To everyone, that's how I see it.

"I remember the first time I ever saw you, sitting on the stairs looking down at me. I would have given anything to know you before."

She wraps her arms around my neck, "I liked you from the first moment."

"I know," I answer, "I had to wait until everyone else was distracted to sneak upstairs. We talked all night. And we were inseparable after that, like fire and gasoline."

Anastasia motions for me to lay back and I do, my head hitting the soft mattress. I move up to adjust myself so my head is on the pillow. She lays next to me seconds after, with her legs tangled in mine.

I look at her and all I can think of is how quickly this will all end.

I want to love you forever, even though I know I probably can't.

"You're the most perfect man I've ever seen," Anastasia says dreamily, as if encased by how one we are with each other right now.

If things were always like this, I wouldn't mind staying here forever. I wouldn't mind giving everything up for her if she asked. No doubts. But I know that tomorrow we will argue, tomorrow she will cry, tomorrow I will hurt her or she will hurt me, and it'll be completely normal. It's become a part of who we are as lovers to make each other despise each other's existence. And I'm growing exhausted with pretending that I don't want to hold her.

I wrap my arms around her tightly, "I love you, Anastasia. Please be good. I want to be good to you, angel."

I'm almost begging and I know she can tell when she holds me tightly. "I can't walk away from this."

"I want to love you forever, that's all. I want to be happy."

Anastasia simply kisses me, her affection accommodating my desperate need for her. "I love you, Zayn. I don't mean to be like this, either."

"I can't walk away from you either, Ana, I fucking can't. It's making me go crazy."

Any rational person would have walked away from this situation. But I kept fighting the fact that this was self destruction. She was ripping out my heart every time she insisted on staying this way. She wanted me to be destructive with her - with her body and her emotions. I didn't want to keep doing that. But I can't lose her, I can't lose her over not being who she wants.

Her dark eyes meet mine, an understanding gaze swimming in hers. "Then just let it."