25. The Hot Guy is Worried About You
25
The Hot Guy is Worried About You
Ziros
Wind races around the tiny apartment, filling the room where we stand. Where I stand. The human is still unconscious in my arms, the heat of her body against my chest reminding me what an idiot I am.
I took too much blood, too fast.
I was so caught-up in the moment, I couldn’t even think.
And now…now what?
She’s dry in an instant, and I carry her to the bed, setting her down gently and tucking her under the covers. Her breathing is rhythmic, her heart a steady song, but that doesn’t stop my own damn heart from racing.
I mutter a curse under my breath.
I’ve got to be more careful.
Her blood and magic races through my veins. I feel more powerful than ever, and that just makes me feel even more guilty as I gaze down at her lying so still in her bed.
I’ve got to make it up to her.
Somehow.
Maybe I should make her food.
She needs to eat, and as soon as she wakes up, I’ll have something ready. Yeah. I can do that much, at least.
I walk to her little kitchen, gazing into the cabinets. There’s so many new boxes and containers of foods I’ve never heard of before, all staring back at me.
Good thing, too.
I already feel guilty for eating all of it before.
I’m just lucky she picked more stuff up between the elevator-store-place and the party.
Otherwise I’d really feel bad.
Now I just have to figure out what to cook. What does she even like to eat?
Maybe I should pour her some juice. That’d probably be a good start, just to get her blood sugar back up.
Just as I’m about to grab the container, a knock rings out at the front door.
I shut the fridge, standing there perfectly still, listening. Trying to tell who’s there.
But it’s just a human. Just my human’s friend.
Yeah, my human.
She’s mine now. That’s how this works.
At least until she sets me free.
“Hey girl!” comes Corrine’s voice through the door. “You home? Sorry it’s late, but I just want to make sure you’re okay—”
I yank open the door, and Corrine stops mid-sentence. Staring up at me.
“ Oh ,” she says, her mouth falling open slightly before she grins. “Sorry, I didn’t realize she had company.” She glances to my side, like she’s trying to catch a glimpse of June—of my human—before holding out her purse and the gold bikini top. “Anyway, I just wanted to make sure she got her phone and stuff. It’s all in here.”
“I’m sure she’ll appreciate it. I’ll let her know when she’s out of bed.”
“Out of bed?” Corrine repeats, eyebrows shooting up like she’s reading way too much into that.
Then again.
Maybe she’s reading exactly the right amount into that.
Corrine opens her mouth like she’s going to say something, but isn’t sure if she should. Lowering her voice, she glances around before she whispers, “ You know it’s her birthday tomorrow, right? ”
I definitely did not know.
Are birthdays a big deal to humans these days? They must be, if her friend is telling me.
“Thanks for letting me know.”
“No problem,” Corrine says with a wave, starting to turn away. But she pauses and adds, “Just so you know, June doesn’t usually have guys over.” Her eyes narrow slightly as she adds, “So you must mean something to her. You’d better be good to her.”
There’s an or else beneath her words that I find slightly amusing.
As if a human could ever take me on.
I lean back, folding my arms. “What if she likes it bad?”
Her friend’s eyes go wide, and she covers her mouth like she’s trying to suppress a squeal. And I get the feeling my human and her friend are going to have lots to talk about after this.
“In that case, I’d better let you two be.” She winks, giving a little wave. “Have fun! Play safe .”
With that, Corrine disappears down the hall as I shut the door.
I stare at the closed door until her footsteps disappear.
Mean something , huh?
You
“You should drink this,” says a low voice at your side from somewhere out of the haze of dreams.
It’s Ziros.
Holding a glass of…orange juice?
Yeah.
It’s a good thing you made it to the store earlier, because your head spins as you sit up and take a careful sip, then several more.
It’s a good thing you got more juice.
“You gonna be okay?” He asks, watching you closely.
You groan, rubbing your eyes as you hand back the empty glass. “Probably?”
Slowly, the events of the evening tumble back.
You stare at Ziros, your face growing hotter as you remember everything in vivid detail.
Did that really happen?
“What’s the matter, human?” He asks with a teasing smirk. “Better be careful or I’ll start thinking you want more. And I don’t mean the juice.”
Oh. My. God.
It really did. It really happened.
You—
You blush, covering your mouth with one hand, and your embarrassment just makes Ziros grin wider.
Woah.
This all feels like a dream.
Not a bad dream, but a dream.
“How long was I out?” You ask, glancing at the windows. It’s still very dark, so hopefully not long.
“Maybe about half an hour,” Ziros says, watching you closely. “Not gonna lie, human. You had me on edge.”
You snap back to look at him.
Is it possible that under his smirky confidence, he was genuinely worried?
“Hey, don’t look at me like that,” he says, disappearing to get you another glass of juice. “You’d better drink this, too.”
You’ve never felt so exhausted.
Could it really be just the blood loss, or is it something more, too?
It feels like…
Like your life energy is drained.
“Is it normal to feel this tired after…” You pause, chugging more juice. “Uh, after blood drinking.”
You’re expecting Ziros to make a joke, but his eyes darken and he frowns.
“I don’t know. I don’t really engage in it often. Not even before I was locked away.”
“You didn’t?” That’s a surprise.
He’s so handsome, surely women have been throwing themselves at him for eternity. Or however long he’s been alive.
“I told you before, didn’t I? I’ve never cared for the taste of blood.”
You stare at him in the low light of the kitchen that filters into your sleeping area.
He sure seemed like he was enjoying himself.
Could it be that he likes your blood, and only yours?
Nah, that’s probably just wishful thinking. There’s no reason you’d be special.
But it’s a nice thought.
“You should eat something,” he says, bringing you a tray of crackers and sliced fruit.
And it’s rather nice getting waited on in bed, you’ve gotta admit. But all you really want to do is go back to sleep. You haven’t been this exhausted since the last time you were sick.
By the time you’ve finished the crackers, you can’t even bring yourself to get up and brush your teeth. You just lie back down, and Ziros tucks the covers up around your shoulders.
From somewhere in the hazy darkness at the edge of sleep, you swear you hear his voice whisper, “ Sweet dreams, Anzelika .”
* * *
It’s sunny when you wake up, and you groan, reaching for your phone.
Only to remember you don’t have your phone.
The bright light of midday streams through your window blinds.
Just how long did you sleep?
You need to get your phone and make sure you’re not needed at the cafe, but before you can even think about how you’ll manage to get back and get it, you see it: There it is, a beacon of normalcy sitting on your bedside table, as if you’d never gone out at all.
As if the entire chaos of the past couple days since you met Ziros was all just a crazy dream.
You blink away the grogginess.
And then you realize: You’re still wearing a borrowed white shirt.
With a couple, uh, holes in strategic places, as if someone bit it.
And…metallic cheeky bikini bottoms. So cheeky, they’re basically a thong.
That’s it.
It’s a good thing your blinds are mostly shut.
You start to reach for your phone, but before you can ask how it got there, something levitates into the room.
A…cake?
You stare.
With candles.
Wind rushes around you, billowing your hair in all directions as the cake plate comes to a perfect landing in your hands.
It’s a beautiful cake with swirls of chocolate frosting, topped with chocolate curls.
The most beautiful cake you’ve ever seen.
Slowly, you look up from this mysterious culinary masterpiece, and there’s Ziros leaning against the edge of the wall that separates your bed area from the kitchen. Arms folded. Grinning smugly.
As you stare between him and the cake on its platter in your hands, he says, “I heard it’s your birthday.”