Work Text:
“Care to explain what you are doing here in the rain?”
“...No.”
Zayne nearly clicks his tongue at your stubbornness. Instead, he presses the hazard lights in his vehicle and darts his gaze at you again, “Come inside.”
You stare at him with furrowed brows, your arms wrapped around your shivering body with the tiny bus stop shed measly protecting you from the downpour. Zayne seems collected, looking at you expectantly through his glasses from his sleek black Audi, his one hand on the steering wheel and the other resting on the passenger seat with its windows rolled down. The offer is tempting enough, especially with the fact that Zayne has set the temperature just as toasty as you wish it would be.
But the earlier argument from your shared space resurfaces in your brain. Which warrants you to take a step back and look to the other side of the road.
“Don’t wanna,” you persist, folding your arms across your chest.
Your lover swallows thickly at your words, body resuming to driving position and looking straight at the road, “Alright. Have it your way,” he says, rolling the windows back up.
And for a second, you feel panic rising in your stomach, knowing that you do want to get in the car and be comfortable! Not to mention that you don’t know what time the next bus will arrive as you’ve been stuck in the shed for almost thirty minutes now, so getting inside his car seemed to be the most reasonable option. But Zayne just pisses you off at the moment.
Until you hear him adjusting the shift gear and the slamming of the car door. Your eyes followed the sound and your gaze was met with Zayne’s hunched back, his left hand doing nothing from shielding his body from the rain, walking around the vehicle. Your hands fall to your sides as he reaches you under the shed and before you can even get a word out, he already has you over his shoulders like a rag doll and within a minute, you were gently placed in the passenger seat of his car.
You couldn’t even protest when he leaned over your space, “You can roll your eyes at me later but I need you to behave now,” he explains, reaching out to the seatbelt and fastening it to your side. “Because if you think I’d let your idiocy and pride win tonight, you must have forgotten who you are dating.”
You immediately roll your eyes at his words. In response, Zayne presses his two fingers in your forehead, gently pushing it backward, “I said, behave.”
He didn’t even give you a chance to reply as he is already closing your door and walking to his side. You fold your arms across your chest again, huffing a breath as you look at your window, watching the raindrops patter on the glass.
Within seconds, Zayne settles beside you, his hair and clothes damp from the drizzle. You take a peek of him from your peripheral vision, watching water drip from the tips of hair to his shoulders. As he fastens his seatbelt, you reach out to the glove compartment of his car, and toss him the box of tissues he keeps religiously.
“You’ll get sick,” you mumble under your breath, avoiding his eyes, insisting on staring at the bus stop shed you were under just a couple of seconds ago. And you know for a fact that Zayne’s lips slightly twitch upward in amusement at your attempts to care for him.
“Isn’t someone so caring?” He says, humor lacing his tone as he pulls the tissues, patting himself dry.
You let out a huff, almost sounding like a scoff, “Savor this moment, I guess. It won’t happen again.”
You hear Zayne tossing the tissues at his cup holders by his door, “And someone’s being a little moody too, huh?”
You ignore his comment, continuing to stare ahead at the window with your lips pressed into a thin line. Zayne, on the other hand, could still feel your frustrations and anger directed at him. He shifts the gear of the car and proceeds to accelerate slowly, deft hands carefully pulling away from the curb and driving through the familiar roads.
Minutes of silence engulfed in the vehicle, neither wanting to break the tension bubbling, afraid that it may lead into an argument again. But despite the uncertainty of the situation, Zayne could never seem to find himself staying in this predicament with you. And so, he softly exhales, “Would you like to explain why you were shivering in the rain earlier?” He almost whispers under his breath.
You huff, “I wasn’t in the rain. I was at the bus stop,” you mumble.
Semantics, he wants to say. But he holds off his tongue. “What made you decide to be sarcastic today?” He says playfully, which warrants another roll of your eyes, refusing to even face him.
“Because someone would rather defend an intern for unabashedly flirting with him than side with his girlfriend,” you grumble under your breath, enough for him to hear.
Your lover purses his lips, knowing only himself could be to blame for even trying to make the atmosphere lighter. He dug his own grave at that moment. His fingertips drumming onto the steering wheel as he recalls how the argument came about.
Earlier, Zayne just arrived from a gruelling 12-hour shift at the hospital, ranting about how he had sudden back-to-back emergency surgeries to take care of while he was pressing a kiss to your hair and simultaneously shrugging off his coat and lab gown. You hum in acknowledgment, telling him how you had already prepared him a nice warm bath in his stead. He sighs in appreciation, sluggishly dragging himself to the bathroom to submerge himself into the water.
And as he does so, you decide to clean up after him, picking up his coat and lab gown from the rack to toss into the laundry. However, the moment you sling his clothes in your arms, you manage to whiff a feminine scent deeply ingrained in your boyfriend’s lab coat. You were absolutely certain that it’s not one of your perfumes as you have never worn anything so powerful from the one that you caught and the fragrance seemed to be quite fresh, like it was sprayed prior to his clock-out at work.
Your mind spirals with all the possibilities. You were definite that Zayne would never … entertain another woman when he is in a committed relationship with you. You knew his character inside out and if he wishes to see other people, you knew deep in your soul that he’d rather tell you straight up than beat around the bush.
You feel your surroundings spinning and your gut twisting at the thought that somebody is doing this to your lover. You take a moment to yourself, carefully sitting down at the couch as you continue to cling onto his clothes. As the seconds ticked into minutes, you barely heard the sound of the bathroom door opening and your boyfriend’s footsteps padding through the hallway of your shared apartment.
“Darling? Why are you still not in bed?” He calls out, ruffling his hair with his towel.
“Zayne,” you say, and he visibly flinches at the tone of your voice and your lack of endearment. You refuse to look at him, your eyes staring straight ahead.
“Is something the matter, my love?” He asks, confusion written all over his face.
You swallow thickly, glancing up at him, “I need you to be honest with me, Zayne.”
His head slightly cocks to the side, “Is there a problem?”
“Your lab coat smells like a different woman,” you say straightforwardly, staring at him with a blank look that demands an explanation and almost begging that none of this is happening. Zayne scowls at your words, “What?” He muttered, taking the coat from yours and sniffing it. Once he caught a whiff of the familiar aroma, he visibly sighs, rubbing his temples and turning his heel away, “It must be that new intern in our department. She seems too eager to be working with me,” he explains in a flat tone, which would’ve been enough for you on a normal day. But for some reason, the gears in your head just turn. “You do not need to worry yourself over this. It’s nothing,” he continued as he placed his gown in the washing machine.
“Have you done anything to call her behavior out?” You ask, trailing behind him, the frown in your face deepening. Zayne clenches his jaw, pressing into the setting of the washing machine “Is it necessary?”
Suddenly, you felt the rage of all your female ancestors rising within you. “You’re asking me if it’s necessary? ” You scoff, folding your arms across your chest, “You’re a smart guy, Zayne. What do you think?” You challenge.
Zayne exhales, “Darling, can I ask you to not do this right now?”
“I just need an answer,” you demand.
His face tightens and he sighs, “I do not think it’s necessary as she is just an intern–”
“Then what about me, Zayne?” You ask, cutting him off, “Are my feelings just… unimportant to you?”
You were certain that you were being a little too much right now, especially knowing that your boyfriend has fatigue creeping up on him after his shift. But there was something in you that felt the need to claw out answers from him, even if it’s in an unhealthy way possible.
“My love, I am serious. I would want to have this conversation another time, please,” Zayne calmly says, almost pleading, the weariness in his face growing evident. And instead of letting the subject go, you huff and walk away, “Fine. Have it your way.”
And being stubborn is one thing you know how to do. Because instead of wrapping yourself under the comforts of your duvet in your shared bed, you grab your blanket and pillow while Zayne is expectantly waiting for you to embrace him for the night and lull himself to sleep with your warmth beside him.
“Darling where are you going–?”
“I am not sleeping with you tonight. I am still upset that you did nothing to call her behavior out.”
You thought Zayne would actually trail behind you and ask you to stop being difficult, using his strength to force you back to bed. But he lets you grumble on the couch, settling yourself underneath the thin blanket that does nothing to warm you up. You toss and turn on the couch, desperate to catch some sleep and a comfortable position but to no avail.
Until you hear careful footsteps padding across the living which elicits a thought from you that maybe he will finally ask you to come back to bed.
You wait for his words as your eyes are screwed shut, pretending to be asleep. Instead, you just hear the front door of your apartment opening and closing.
And in your frustration and anger, instead of following him and asking him to come back home, knowing he just went to the hospital to continue working, you returned the favor. You decided to go to the Hunters Association and finish the paperwork you have been putting off since last week.
Which led you to your predicament of being stuck on the bus stop while the rain poured heavily from the skies.
The car was filled with another minute of silence and he’s finding the right words to say to his lover. In the first place, he was never good with verbalizing his feelings, so being in this dilemma makes him feel a little queasy, especially when this seemed to be the biggest problem you two have encountered as a couple so far.
As he continues to file through his brain on what to say, he decides on a simple thing, “I’m sorry.”
You ignore his words.
“You have every right to be mad at me tonight but all I ask of you is to sleep beside me later,” he said, carefully driving through the slippery streets.
“Bold of you to demand that when you just up and left without a word,” you grumble.
“I had to take care of things,” he replies calmly. And in your head, you were already screaming several sarcastic remarks and rolling your eyes until you were sure you could see your skull. But before you could settle in on a perfect comeback, he speaks up again, “It seems I wasn’t appreciating my girlfriend’s feelings enough that I had to let her go through that emotional turmoil.”
You bite your inner cheek, listening to his words. “And I hope she listens to me tonight and comes home because I have already dealt with a rather… nuisance of a trainee at the hospital. Only to find out from my lover’s colleague that she worked overtime and is shivering in the rain,” he says.
Finally, you turn your head to meet his gaze, which has been glued the entire time on the road. “You did?” You ask, almost in a whisper.
He merely nods, “I could never live with the fact that you feel insecure in this relationship. It is my job to have you feel assured and safe. And if it meant driving back to the hospital to speak with the intern in the midst of her night shift, I would gladly do so.”
Your bottom lip juts out instinctively as you feel your heart swell in his words, “Zayne…”
“Besides, I could also never stand living with someone so grumpy and hard-headed to the point where she’d let me sleep alone in the bed.”
“Hey!”
Zayne’s lips slightly twitch upward as he knows you only focused on the first words. The stoplight glows yellow then transitions into a bright red, opting your lover to pause his driving and turn to you, “Is the little grouchy girl finished with her tantrums?”
“I’m not grouchy! My feelings were valid, Zayne,” you huff.
Zayne suppresses his smile as he presses a hand to your cheek, “I know, my love. Your feelings were and are valid. I apologize if it seemed like I wasn’t prioritizing you.”
You release a small sigh, your lips slightly quivering upward at the feelings of his warm hands, “Okay. I’m sorry too, Zayne. I was being a little harsh and forceful.”
“Apology slightly accepted,” he replies, removing his hand from yours, placing it back on the steering wheel.
Your eyes fly open at his words, cocking your head sideways in confusion, “Slightly?”
“Well you do have to compensate me for spending the night chasing you instead of resting, dear,” he says, pushing his glasses upward. You narrow your eyes at him in suspicion as he slowly accelerates the vehicle again, “What kind of compensation?”
Instead of replying to you, his lips break out a wide smile and his right hand taps on his cheek twice while his eyes remain on the road, and his left hand maneuvering the steering wheel effortlessly (which makes you feel things but you ignore it).
You raise a brow at him “Just a kiss on the cheek?”
Zayne remained silent. Thinking it was nothing, you shrugged and leaned forward, ready to press a kiss to his cheek. But before you can reach the skin of his cheek, he suddenly turns his head, urging you to plant your lips with his momentarily, causing your eyes to widen. He pulls away from the peck, catching a glimpse of your surprised expression with a smug smirk threatening to pull from the corners of his mouth.
“Zayne, that was dangerous!” You exclaim, your fingertips ghosting over your lips while heat creeps up your cheeks. Instead of replying, your lover merely hums, continuing his drive like nothing happened, eyes glued to the road as he feels you beside him still recover from the fleeting kiss.
“At least I fully accepted your apology, did I not?”
“Even if it cost us our lives?”
“Oh please my love, don’t be dramatic."