1 am turns into 3:30 am and he hasn't even bothered calling so I know he's okay. This was all too familiar to me, we had been in this situation before. I find his cigarettes in their usual spot, taking the pack in my hands and taking one out. I knew it was gonna be a long wait. 

The last time this had happened - it happened because of me. When Zayn returned that day, his frightening actions had left a print in my mind. I knew he could be dangerous, reckless even, the little importance he gave things was frightening. I didn't want a repeat, but I didn't even care. I knew it was my fault for asking questions I didn't really want answers to. And I hurt him, his blood was all over the carpet.

As I chain smoke, my mind runs wild. One second I'm thinking about Zayn and the next I'm thinking about my last few months without him. This empty feeling in my chest was hurting me - like my heartstrings were being pulled at. I felt like he'd never come back. I think about Liam wanting to help me fix my issues and Zayn just popping up as if he knew we'd be there. No doubt he did, but did it matter? I knew deep down I would have begged him to take me back eventually. 

The door opens slightly. My face lights up, butterflies going crazy at the sight of him entering and closing the door behind him. His hand has a bandage around it and I get hit by a pang of guilt, even though I'm distracted by his messy appearance.

"You're still up," he says surprised, "why?"

"I was waiting for you," I watch him sit down on the recliner, taking a cigarette from the pack I left on the arm rest of it and lighting it up. "Who were you with?"

Zayn takes a long drag, "Don't start, I just got home."

He reeks like alcohol. He pats his lap.

"I just wanna know who you were with," I sit on his knee, he puts my legs over his, and I feel him place his arm around me. 

"Friends from work," He says lowly. "What's with you wanting to know who I'm with all the time?"

I frown, anger seeping deeper into me. "Did you fuck her in our bed?"

He chuckles, gripping my uncomfortably tight. "I'm not a fucking idiot," he whispered in my ear, "Don't start something you're gonna make me finish."

Zayn must sense I'll argue. "I'm warning you, please don't fuck with me. I let that shit earlier slide, but I won't keep allowing the disrespect."

"I don't know if you're lying about who you were with. You won't even tell me who was here while I was gone. I bet you're still seeing her!"

"Who did you have over when you weren't here?" He changed it up, focusing the attention on me. "No one. You know how I know that for a fact?" I shrugged. "Because I made sure that no stupid ass guy went over. I'm not an idiot, Ana. I know how you are, or are you forgetting? Now act right," Zayn continues, ignoring my argument and sliding his hand under my shirt. "miss me?"

He had someone watching me, I'm sure. His possessive nature over me has no limits, I know that. It doesn't really surprise. I squirm, not wanting him to touch me and try to get his way by distracting me. "No."

He raised a brow, clearly amused. "You didn't miss me?"

I feel his lips on my neck, nibbling on the exposed flesh forcefully when I kept trying to wiggle out of his hold. I found myself with my back to his chest, one of his hands on my abdomen and the other holding a fistful of my hair, his lips attacking my neck and shoulder with the advantage. 

I bit my lip hoping to resist, but I know I wouldn't be able to. It had just been so long since I felt him this close. 

"Tell me you missed me," he murmured in my ear. 

"Let me go, Zayn," I say softly, "Please."

I'm surprised when he does. Why won't he tell me who he was with? Was he with a woman? Has he been seeing someone and hasn't bothered to break it off because he's gonna throw me away soon? Why do I feel this aching, heavy feeling in my chest when he hides things? 

"Baby," he calls for me as he follows me into the guest room. 

When I don't answer, I expect him to just leave me alone, but I know Zayn better. He pulls my arm back, holding it too tightly. 

"Answer when I call you," he seethes, "what's with the tantrum?"

I wince, trying to pull away. "Just tell me who you were with and who you fucked in our bed!" I yelled, crying out immediately after when he pushed me against the wall. "What the fuck?"

"Stop, Anastasia, fucking stop."

I looked at him fearfully, "You don't know when to stop!"

"I don't want to be like this with you, damn it! You want me to treat you bad because you like it," Zayn looked innocent despite his anger, but who knew if that was the case here. "I've never cheated, Ana. I just got you back and I'm not about to start." 

I walked into the guest room, surprised at how much it had changed. The walls had gone from white to black along with everything else, except the brand new hardwood floor. "Why did you change everything in here?"

"I got blood on the white walls and carpet. Had to cover it up.""

I frowned. "Who's blood?"

"Amy's blood," he said nonchalantly, throwing me on the bed. "You don't need to worry about that," he simply answered, referring to her, as he climbed on top of me, "really."

"Zayn," I said, watching his expression as he slid my pajama shorts down. "I wanna know what happened in here."

He smirked, eyeing my panties. "These are nice, did you put them on because you knew I'd like them?"

The man I loved was so fucked up. 

"I'm actually surprised you aren't begging me to fuck you," he raised a brow, sliding my panties down as well, "I really don't like it."

"Well, maybe I don't want you to fuck me."

It takes me back to the first night I met him. God, that was a lifetime ago, so much had changed. I felt like I never truly stood a chance when I met Zayn at this point in my life. I saw him for a moment and I was gone. Too far gone. 

I felt his hand running up and down my thigh, cursing my desire for him for letting the goosebumps appear. He hovered over me, slipping a finger a finger inside me.

I shuddered, "Z-Zayn."

"I know you want me to," he said quietly, "I'm not liking how quiet you are."

He lowered his mouth to my lips and while I fought my own stubborn feelings, he slipped in another finger. While he was gentle with the first one, his movements grew harder to get a reaction out of me. I moaned into his mouth, letting myself kiss him back.

He tore his lips from mine to look at me, stopping his movements completely. I heard him unbuckle his pants, lifting himself from me only slightly. I didn't want the hot atmosphere to disappear, desire hanging over me like a cloak.

Zayn positioned himself, and as he forced himself deep into me, I kept trying to make him take it easy. I couldn't handle how dirty it always made me feel afterwards when he fucked me like I was a piece of meat to him. I wanted him to love me, really love me, so much that I could feel it afterwards instead of feeling the aftermath of the bruises I always got left with.

"Ana," he whispered my name, content by my pained moans. 

His hand fount my neck, much like it always did, and wrapped around it. I hated it and loved it. Why was I so easy? Why couldn't I control myself? I didn't get any answers from him at all, and I knew I wouldn't the moment I let him unclothe me. I knew I wouldn't the moment I let him start touching me. This was how I always was. This was how it was always gonna be. 

"Baby," he called for me, I allowed myself to meet his intense gaze. "Do you love me?"

I nodded, putting my hand over the one he had on my neck, silently pleading for him to let go. "I don't like it when you choke me."

This seemed to make him press down harder, enough to make me lightheaded. He let go after a few seconds, thankfully.

I subjected myself to this because I loved him, because I wanted him more than anything. The invisible force that drew me to him was never possible to ignore and I didn't want to. The truth was that I had wanted him for all those months and now that I had him, I wouldn't make the mistake of letting go again. But I was fearful that he'd cheat on me more than I feared him hurting me. For some reason, I had grown attached to suffering by his hand. I didn't understand why.

"I love you," I whispered, my hands on the side of my head were laced with his. My chest was against his, very little space between us. 

"I love you, baby," he replied as he buried his face in my neck. "Please don't leave me again."

His desperate thrusts and reassurance of love only made me writhe and the pit in my stomach grew deep. I started to feel myself going over the edge. All I wanted was this - Zayn and I together. I wanted him to love me and only me.