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Your lips were pursed tightly. Hands placed on your thighs were clenched so tightly that you could feel the nails digging into your skin. You did your hardest to keep back the tears that threatened to fall, but failed. Warm drops dripped on the back of your hands, and you brushed them away as soon as you noticed a familiar figure approaching from afar.
Zayne opened the car door and sat in the driver's seat. He did not glance at you or say anything. You turned entirely to face the window, observing the soft drizzle fall outside. All you wanted to do was kick the car door open, run out into the rain and scream your lungs out.
The atmosphere between the two of you had never been this stuffy. You could have left alone, but because your body was injured and your emotions were all over the place, you lacked the strength to oppose Zayne's decision. So you let him do anything he wanted. Perhaps that was best for both.
Just a second ago, you fought to reject him and ended up sitting here with bitterness in your heart, allowing him to take you home, allowing him to control you like a puppet again.
The third time you had been hospitalized in one short month, you had also reached Zayne's limit.
People at the hospital claimed that when Dr. Zayne was upset, he became quite frightening. They thought he would explode and anyone unlucky enough to get in his way would suffer. On the contrary, Zayne's rage was like a blizzard on the horizon. You might believe it would not find you, but when it did, no matter where you hid, you would never be secure.
And that day, for the first time ever, Doctor Zayne was seen losing his usual composure.
His lengthy and fast steps resembled racing through long and busy corridors. The hospital room door opened in such a way that it was about to come off its hinges. Zayne's face solidified. Without a word, he confiscated your medical documents and commanded everyone to go, in such a frightening manner that the nurse caring for you had to shiver from the cold after leaving.
Zayne looked at the documents and then at the wound on your shoulder. It was treated in time but remained painful. The injury had left you quite weak, but after nearly a day of medical care, what distressed you the most was Zayne's attitude.
Before he could say anything, you spoke up and explained:
“It was just an incident… It wasn't like I took the initiative to accept this mission. It's just that there were no other Hunters closer to the attack area than I was…”
“That's why, despite the fact that you hadn't completely recovered and were resting, you hurried to the scene, dismissing your prior injuries. Dismissing your doctor's orders?"
One corner of the file in Zayne's hand was so tight that it became wrinkled when he let go and threw it hard on the nearby table. He turned his back on you and looked out the window. One hand on his hip, the other hand to bury his face. He acted as if he was trying his best to retain the last bit of composure.
"I'm fine." You said. "I honestly felt no discomfort. I have been able to move properly for a week now. Staying at home constantly is boring. I needed to stretch a little so I could get back to work quickly."
Zayne slowly turned around to look at you. He was still standing in the corner of the room, and you noticed the window glass behind him starting to freeze.
“You were bored? If you feel bored, call your friends. If you feel bored, go shopping or hang out where you like to go. You were bored so you decided to jump right into a group of Wanderers?"
“Zayne…” You grimaced. “I don't like you this way… You… are acting so strange…”
“Do you think I'd like to see you lying here? Do you think I'd like to see you being carried to the hospital?"
"I'm sorry…" You murmured. You knew it was you to blame for not listening to him and instead running to the scene of the attack. But you were conscious of your own strength and wanted to fulfill the commitment you made when you decided to become a Hunter.
"You've said sorry for the third time this month." Zayne responded. His face was rigid, yet his fists were clasped firmly. "I've heard enough."
"Oh, just quit it!" You abruptly raised your voice. "I told you I didn't like you acting this way. As a Hunter, it's normal for me to get hurt!"
Zayne opened his eyes wide. He was astonished by your response. He stayed silent so you could pour out your feelings.
“I am capable of taking care of myself! I don't like being told what to eat or drink. I don't like being told what time I must go to bed. Or being compelled to stay at home even though I have completely recovered and ready to battle! I'm not a child for you to order around, or tell me to do this and that!”
“You're saying, I'm too controlling over you?”
“I…” You halted. It seemed that was true. Even while you knew Zayne had good intentions and genuinely cared for you, you were unable to avoid feeling as if he was in charge of every part of your life, controlling every meal and sleep.
"Understood."
Silence permeated the hospital room for a long moment. Zayne gazed at you as if he was considering something, then he started to pack up your clothes and belongings that remained in the room.
“What are you doing?”
Zayne responded: “I don't want to be the one who controls you. You will be discharged from the hospital and free to do as you please.”
“What do you mean by that?” Free? It sounded like he did not care about you anymore. It sounded like he was going to give you your freedom back by not getting involved in anything related to you anymore.
“I will not force you to stay here. No one can do that. In roughly ten minutes, someone will come and take you to my car. I only ask you to do this for me once more.”
Having said that, Zayne turned and left. The door closed behind his broad back and you swore you were about to cry right from that moment.
The nurse came to inform you that Dr. Zayne had directly requested your discharge from the hospital. They let you go since your situation was not too serious and they believed Zayne would care for you discreetly at home. Zayne waited for you in the parking lot. He unlocked the door for you to enter first and returned to fetch a few more medical supplies before driving you home.
All along the way, you kept wondering if you had made a big mistake. You were exceptionally disrespectful and became frustrated with Zayne for no reason. However, he did not give in to you as he always did. Confused, you simply wanted to lie down on your pleasant mattress at home and weep loudly. However, as the car came to a halt in front of your flat, Zayne refused to let you get out.
You turned to look at him. He looked exhausted and miserable. He gripped the steering wheel tightly, then your eyes met for a moment. You were the first to break that connection.
"I'm home now. Can I leave yet? Or do I still have to wait for your permission?"
"Just stay a little more." Zayne's deep voice rang out. He was considerably more relaxed now than he had been previously. "I'm sorry…"
That was the first time you had heard an apology from him. How strange! Usually, you were the one making trouble, and Zayne was the one who looked after you. You were the one who said sorry. Hearing those words coming out of his mouth made you feel so odd.
“I'm sorry if I become too controlling and that makes you feel uncomfortable.”
You were astonished for a second. You still wanted to weep, but your emotions had settled down considerably.
Zayne slipped his hand down from the steering wheel to seize yours and turned it over. He said:
“When I saw you almost unconscious from the poison, being carried into the hospital room, my heart seemed to stop beating. That is not something I want to see at all.”
Zayne's eyes were quite sorrowful. You subconsciously imagined that if you switched roles and the injured person was him, you definitely would not be able to remain calm in such a situation.
“I know you can take care of yourself,” Zayne continued. “But I still want to help you do that and protect you. In my own way.”
After he finished speaking, there was a moment of calmness. The street lights were illuminated, and the rain stopped pouring. You softly clutched his hand.
“I'm sorry too, because what I said was not true… I didn't mean to call you a dictator who controls this relationship…”
You smiled at him. The corners of Zayne's lips also loosened somewhat. He took your hand and tenderly pressed a kiss on.
“I'm really okay.” You added. “The doctor also said that the poison from the Wanderers had been purified. I don't feel too much pain anymore."
Zayne gave a slight nod. He understood this from the moment he read your record. That was why he boldly asked for you to be discharged from the hospital. Even though he was upset, your safety would come first in any case.
"You said you were fine?" Zayne inquired out of the blue. "How do you prove it then?"
You exhaled. After all, he still had reservations about your ability to care for yourself. You leaned in to offer him a passionate kiss. The resentment in your heart melted away in his warmth.
As your lips withdrew from Zayne's, he whispered:
"Good enough. However, in the future, if there is an issue between us, or if you are dissatisfied with something I do,... can I trust you to talk to me directly about it?"
You gave a modest nod. Zayne kissed you, deep. He caressed you but only so gently, as if afraid that you would melt into rain bubbles if he became too greedy. A while later, perhaps since your head was hazy from the injury, you had no clue how you ended up sitting on top of Zayne in the driver's seat, your lips locked with him while your hands constantly touching his flesh underneath the shirt. His delicate but searing kisses fell on your shoulder, around the bandaged area that had just been revealed to his sight as he pulled your shirt down. He kissed your wounds, new and old. He asked softly, would you feel pain if he touched them? And you replied that there was only pain if he did not do so.
Rain began pouring again; it might last all night long. How convenient, since he did not intend to let you get out of the car in such a condition.