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It was already dusk when I finally got out of my history lecture, light shades of scarlet could be seen under the storm clouds. It had been storming all week, the puddles outside the lecture hall could attest to that. My heavy boots kept my feet dry as I walked across campus; anyone who has ever attended University knows the hell of trying to not only afford parking, but also find parking spots.
Zayne had a short shift today, so after his shift he swapped our cars taking mine to the mechanics for its regular oil change. Which left me driving his Audi home. I hate driving the Audi, not only are there too many blind spots, the vehicle costs more than I make in a year.. After losing my best friend in a car wreck back in high school, driving became the most anxiety inducing activity for me to do.
In the fancy vehicle I spent five minutes just adjusting everything to where I can reach the pedals. “God why did I go and date a giant,” I grumble, fastening the seatbelt.
I made sure to fix the Bluetooth to play my music, to drown out the lingering anxiety in the back of my mind. I was hyper aware of my surroundings, careful to watch the blind spots. The last thing I wanted to do was total Zayne's expensive car.
Everything was completely fine until I got to a ‘no passing’ zone. I was extra cautious around the corners, the roads wet from the rain. My best friend died when their vehicle hydroplaned in the rain. I hate driving in the rain. Thankfully, it was only a light shower, the drops pattering on the windshield in an eerie tune. I could see bright LED headlights in my rearview mirror, someone starting to ride my bumper. I checked the speedometer making sure I wasn’t going too slow, I was going the speed limit, this person was just a dick.
“Why don’t I go get my strap, SO YOU CAN RIDE THAT TOO FUCKWAD-” Zayne always said I had terrible road rage, I personally didn’t see it.
On a particularly sharp corner I noticed the lights shift from my rearview mirror to the side mirror. This person was trying to pass me on the corner, despite the glaring double yellow lines. I could feel the anxiety begin to bubble in my chest, I turned down the music focusing completely on driving. In and Out. Keep Breathing. Don’t Panic. You are okay.
The other car however did not pass me, it continued driving in the opposite lane despite the possibility of someone coming. My eyes blur with tears of frustration and fear. I couldn’t do anything, I was stuck. I try to slow down, letting the person merge despite there being ample room considering it was a two lane road, but the opposite car slows down along with me. It was as if they were tormenting me; I wanted to cry.
My mind was racing trying to find an out, a back road, a stop sign, anything to get this person away from me. It was dark out now, with the rain and my astigmatism my vision was less than par. Anxiety festered in my chest, a dull ache next to the rapid drumming of my heart. My knuckles were white from how hard I was gripping the steering wheel. What could I do? There wasn’t a spot where I could safely stop and pull to the side. At this point I could feel the festering tears finally spill from my waterline.
It happened too fast. Another sharp corner. Headlights. The other car narrowly passed me, the back bumper hitting the front of the Audi. I tried to brake. The tires spun. I lost control of the vehicle, it veered off the side of the road.. With a sickening crunch the front of the vehicle impacted with a large tree. My head jerked forward, temple hitting the steering wheel. The airbag didn’t go off. I just wrecked Zayne’s car. He trusted me and I wrecked it- sitting there in the driver's seat I was frozen, shaking hands hovering just over the steering wheel. I couldn’t see the damage, the windshield was shattered, I might as well been looking through a kaleidoscope. I couldn’t breath, my lungs burned trying to snap myself out of the shock. Maybe I was breathing, too quickly, too rapidly unable to process the events that just unfolded. Eventually with trembling hands I undid my seat belt, making sure the car was in park before fumbling for my phone. At this point I was crying so hard I couldn’t see. My sight mirrored that of a child's watercolor painting; vague blobs of color that shifted with every movement. By some miracle I managed to dial Zayne’s number.
The poor man didn't have a chance to speak before my panic came out as word vomit, “Zayne-I'm sorry-I didn’t mean to-it all happened so fast-I lost control,” I was hysterical and hyperventilating.
“Woah- slow down, Darling. Take a deep breath, In and out focus on my voice,” Zayne could barely understand my words; he knew I was having a panic attack. Despite his soothing words I couldn't stop- Half spoken apologies in between gasps for air and sobs. “Love, you are in shock, I need you to control your breathing or you will pass out.” Zayne immediately went into Doctor mode knowing something bad must have happened.
“I can’t-”
“Yes you can,” he didn’t let me speak, “listen to my voice- breath… easy does it,” he slowly guides my breathing, I can hear rusting in the background. I can only assume he is getting his shoes. I listen to him, resting my head on the steering wheel, letting him be my life line. I choke for air, still sobbing. “You are doing so well for me, my love, keep breathing- I’m on my way.” His voice is gentle but I can hear the worry behind the reassurance. Never was I more grateful for the fact we share our phone locations. I could hear a car starting in the background.
“Stay on the phone with me?” I whimper, tears dripping off my chin. I moved out of the driver's seat into the passenger side floor board, curing up as small as I could. An odd habit I have had since childhood; when things become too much I instinctively curl up. Usually Zayne would be right there next to me with a blanket trying to coax me out of the crumpled form. ‘You will hurt your back like that. I will hold you, but I need you to get out of the corner first,’ he would whisper, careful not to overwhelm me.
“I’m not going anywhere, can you tell me what happened?” Zayne’s voice sounded different once his phone connected to the car's Bluetooth.
I blubber out, “I wrecked-I wrecked the Audi,” I choke on a sob wiping my eyes, “I am so sorry, Zayne. You trusted me and I-”
Zayne once again cuts me short before I can fall back into hysterics, “I don't care about the car. Are you hurt?”
However my mind was on a one way track, “But it's an expensive car; and I wrecked it-” I sob.
“Darling listen to me, I have insurance for a reason, don't focus on the car. I'm not mad or upset,” he says softly, trying to keep me calm. I knew deep down he wasn't upset, but in that moment I felt guilty for wrecking his car. “Now are you hurt?”
“I hit- I hit my head on the - the steering wheel,” I stuttered touching my temple, it felt damp, “The airbag, it didn’t go off.” I look around from my spot on the floor board still crying.
“The airbag didn’t go off,” I can practically hear Zayne clench his jaw as he takes a couple deep breaths, “are you okay? Are you bleeding?” he begins asking questions he usually would to a patient to determine if they have a concussion.
I moved my hand from my temple, there was blood, not a lot but enough to make my breathing stop. “Y-yes, Zayne there’s blood,” I cry out my fear and anxiety completely boiling over.
“Baby, I need you to keep breathing.. How is your vision?”
“My vision is fine; my head doesn’t hurt either,” I sniffled, finding one of Zayne’s jackets on the floorboard, I instinctively hugged it, his scent lingering on the fabric. My back straining in the shrimp-like position.
“That could just be the adrenaline,” Zayne mutters, his brain working overtime trying to make sure I was okay. “Can you tell me what happened?” he asks softly, careful not to trigger another panic attack.
I take a deep breath recalling the series of events in my mind, I didn't get far before the tears reappeared blurring my vision. “I was to go home- I want to go home, Zayne. I'm scared.” I choke, unable to tell Zayne what happened.
Zayne didn't push, despite his own worry. “I am almost there, love.”
I don’t say anything, remaining curled up in the floorboard clutching Zayne’s jacket. Zayne could hear my quiet sobs over the phone.
In the silence I disassociated, not mentally present enough to process the anxiety, it festered in my chest. Grief is an old companion who remains eating uninvited at the table. I didn’t hear the car, or notice the flashlight through the windows.
When Zayne opened the drivers side door I was completely caught off guard, a small yelp escaping my lips. The light makes my vision blur at first.
“Shit-”, I hear Zayne’s voice and immediately relax. I can hear the rain outside; it was harder than the light shower earlier. He left the driver's side door open in a rush to get to the passenger side. The door behind me opened. I could feel his hands lifting me out of the floor board and into the seat. His hands were cold, yet familiar.
I start crying again, “Zayne-” I feel his hands gently cup my face.
“Shh. it's okay I’m here,” his voice was soothing but the slight tremble of his hands gave his emotions away. As I sat there, I noticed he was completely drenched from the rain. His black shirt clung to his toned body along with his dark hair sticking to his forehead. Some water droplets clung to his eyelashes. I never understood how someone so handsome could fathom dating me. However right now the only thing my brain could process was the safety I felt in his hazel eyes. His cold hands looked over my head wound. His eyes hid a thousand emotions.
“The bleeding has already stopped… I don’t think you need to go to the hospital.” I could hear him muttering, I realize he is checking everything, my pulse, his hands gently pressing my limbs and torso for any internal injuries despite it being obvious I was unharmed. His brow was furrowed and his jaw clenched. He was doing this to reassure himself I was okay; behind those hazel eyes was a man terrified that he could have possibly lost the woman he loves.
When Zayne finished his ‘examination’ I could see his shoulders physically relax. I hiccup calming down now that he is here.
“I'm sorry-” I sniffle. Zayne gently cupped my face, wiping the remaining tears with his thumb.
“You have nothing to apologize for.”
“But I wrecked your car,” I sob, Zayne sighs, once again I was putting myself last.
“I don’t care about the car,” he says softly, noticing his jacket I was still clutching.
“But it's an expensive car-” I was quickly cut off by Zayne’s fingers pinching my lips together.
“I know interrupting your partner is on the list of relationship no’s, but I'm going to stop you right there,” If it wasn't for the seriousness of the situation I probably would have called him autistic. “I don't care about the car, a car is replaceable, you however are not.” he releases my lips.
“I was ran off the road,” I start to explain but I stumble over my words. Zayne pulls me into his chest.
“You don't have to tell me, the car has a dash cam. I will watch the footage later.” he whispers, holding me tightly, I cling to him still shaking.
“I want to go home-” I whimper.
“Then let's go home, get your bags.” As I got my purse and backpack, Zayne was looking at the vehicle, I could tell just by the look on his face he was making a list of what and who he had to call tomorrow. As I was about to get out of the car Zayne stopped me. “Put the jacket on and it's chilly.” He takes his jacket from my hands and helps me put it on.
When the jacket fully swamped my figure, he gently took my hand, making sure to get the keys and lock the wrecked vehicle. Carefully helping me to my car, that he was driving. I noticed he didn't turn the car off in his rush to get to me.
The whole way home Zayne’s hand remained on my thigh. It was as if he thought after letting go I could disappear. While Zayne wasn’t always the most expressive when it came to his worries, it still manifested in the need to be near me. In this moment I appreciated that quirk of his. While I was still coming out of the shock of it all, he was a gentle reassurance.
When we did get home he held my hand guiding me to the bathroom. The warm light was kind to my eyes, unlike the LED lights of the car that ran me off the road. I tense at the memories' sudden reappearance.
“A warm shower will help your anxiety,” Zayne says softly. Giving me a chance to say no, when I stay quiet he starts the shower, placing a lavender steamer on the drain. I made no move to remove my clothing. Zayne gave me a confused look, to which I lifted my arms, a silent indication for him to do it for me.
He smiled softly and without a word he undressed me. His hands were cold, a natural response due to his evol, but they were gentle. With tender reverence he pulled each soaking piece of fabric away; first my t-shirt, then my jeans, his nimble fingers unbuttoning the overly intricate clasp. He was on his knees in front of me, like a man worship at the alter of the divine. With practiced ease he unclasped my bra with one hand, the first time we had sex and he pulled that move I was a blushing mess. But there was no lust in his movements. He placed soft kisses on my stomach pouch, pulling the plain cotton panties down my thighs. Standing naked before him I see his gaze soften; despite all my insecurities and hatred for myself, anytime he looks at me with those gentle eyes I feel like the most beautiful woman in the world. He stands up from his knees gracing my damp forehead with a gentle kiss. My earlier anxiety and fear seemed to melt away in the lavender scented steam.
“Join me,” I whisper, pulling lightly on his drenched shirt.
“If I ever say no to that,” he softly pecks my lips, “feel free to hit me with a cast iron skillet.” I chuckle, for that moment the car wreck was completely forgotten. There were the moments I love the most, gentle intimacy, no pressure to act sexual despite being naked.
The shower was boiling hot, the lavender steam filling my senses. Zayne was cleaning the blood from my temple with a soft washcloth. Hands that saved lives just earlier today, now tenderly hold me. Without thinking I hugged him, clinging to his muscular form. He was my lifeline, just as I was his. He didn't question it, he never did. Every random hug, every random bite on the bicep, every tug on his sleeve in a crowd; he never questioned it. He welcomed it, including this moment. As my heavy chest pressed against his, nails softly raking down his back his own fingers combed through my long locks. I could feel his chin resting on my head. His heartbeat steady like waves on a rocky shore.
“Im glad you are okay,” he whispers, his voice could barely be heard over the running water. “I thought my heart stopped when I answered your call.”
“I’m sorry-”
“I’m not saying that because you need to apologize,” his index finger tilts my chin making me look at him, “I am saying it because I love you so much the mere thought of possibly losing you terrifies me.”
Tears once again well in my eyes and I bury my face in his naked chest. “I was so scared-”
“I know baby-”
“I love you Zayne-”
“I love you more.”