5 CHOCOLATE HAYDEN

He stands in full glory, clad in a crisp white linen shirt, dark blue denims and a black cleanly knit blazer, sleeves folded up to the elbows. He still folds his sleeves.

Of course, he does.

The fringe of hair still drops handsomely on his forehead and his eyes are still the same. Chocolate brown, deep and trouble magnet.

I’m still not over the shock of seeing him before his eyes dart to mine and I think I spot a faint hint of surprised recognition in them.

I look away immediately. I am beyond shocked. And I have no freaking clue how to react to this.

The girl holding me has visibly loosened her hold on me and is hurriedly wiping her tears. Everyone present seems to have tensed up too.

Still has the effect, I guess.

“Everybody. Out.”

His voice is clipped, yet authoritative.

His words hold the intimidation he always carries. I stand motionless, wondering if I should be happy, scared or hurt.

This is exactly what he does, I don’t even know if I want to laugh or cry, what kind of an emotional state is this?

And his rude tone. Oh, God.

Why am I not surprised? Doesn’t this guy get paid for his cold blooded-ness? Why does he have to be the self assumed and self appointed boss of everyone?

In the midst of all this, I feel a sudden urge to laugh. And it’s probably because I’m familiar with, well, this, and he still is exactly this.

I’ve been in a room with him for precisely ten seconds, maybe less, and I’m already losing it.

His mere existence is a drug. Its addicting, difficult to swallow, gives you hallucinations, negative side effects and you eventually end up in rehab.

He’s still stone cold though. Some things never change, after all.

Everyone gets up to leave and I decide better than to meet his gaze. I follow suit and get up to practically run, before I have to breathe in his presence a second longer.

I cross his form, silently praying that he doesn’t recognise me. And if he does, then doesn’t make a scene out of it; and I almost succeed. Keyword being ‘almost’. Because a second after, I feel a strong grip on my arm roughly pulling me back.

He couldn’t have let it pass, could he?

“Something amusing you, Callister?” All my attempts to hold onto my calm flows away mercilessly as his hold lifts up my eyes to his. The hazel eyes I had adored once.

The fragrance hits my senses and a vague familiarity envelopes me. Expensive mint cologne. And him.

Everything comes crashing down as I gaze at those chocolate brown orbs, fighting against the warmth around my face, informing me of the blush I know must have made its way.

I can feel his arms from my hold on his rolled sleeve and a weird sensation takes over me. I hate how he affects me. How he still bloody affects me, and I can do nothing about it.

The proximity brings out unwanted memories and I would have passed out by now if not for his strong hold.

I vaguely become conscious of the moisture threatening to escape my eyes.

No one knows better, no one in the world, how I’ve missed all of him.

“You will answer me.”

You will answer me.

The day flashes itself before my eyes like a hurricane and the humiliation I had faced stops my tears just at the brim of my eyelids.

It feels that I was in the midst of a beautiful movie, and suddenly someone has changed the slide, and now its just crashes, storms, hurt, anger.

Suddenly I feel his hold on my arm. Firm, yet strong enough to hurt. What he does best.

I remember everything. And a sudden rage fills me up as I jerk my hands away from the man I thought I once knew. I am so tempted to plant the slap I didn’t the last time.

“I’m not answerable to whoever the hell you are.” I state without faltering my stare or voice.

My answer surely takes him by surprise. He cocks his brow and puts on the infamous smirk.

“So I see, you really are that lame, after all, to play the pathetic ‘sorry I don’t know who you are’ card. And I see you’ve learnt to answer. Clearly some things do change.”

“And I see you still continue to be the arse of a human that you were. Clearly some things don’t.”

That seems to wipe off his smirk as his look turns serious, though the dancing humour never leaves his eyes.

“You will not take that tone with me.”

“And you will not decide what tone I bloody take with you.”

“You’re not obeying, honey.”

“You’re not the boss of me.”

“Damn, boy did I miss that awfully!” I feel a prick in my heart as I hear those words from him, even though through a feigned expression of mocking hurt.

I missed it too.

My subconscious scolds me for being such a desperate sap, but I know it’s true.

One person I can never hide this from, is myself. Though, I will never admit it again, especially after what he did.

“I’m sorry I can’t say the same.”

“Are you?” He asks immediately. His eyes are full of amusement and I struggle to keep on a platonic face to give away nothing.

“No.”

“Well, I can make you be. I’ve done it once, a second round would be just as fun, if not more. You do remember, right?” he hisses.

Even the sight of you pisses me off like hell.

I can’t help, as an involuntary gasp leaves me.

How can someone be so cruel? So shamelessly cruel?

We haven’t interacted for five minutes and he has started to hurt me already. I swallow the lump in my throat and fight back tears. He’s such a professional.

And I, like the fool I am, let him practice.

He has the nerve to ask me if I remember. Of course I remember. I remember everything, damn too well.

He leans in, towards me, agonizingly slow, until he reaches my earlobe. My breath hitches in my throat as his warm one heats my ear. He is cool as a cucumber and his whispered voice is eerily calm.

“Were you sick the day they conducted the ‘how to answer’ class, Adalanna?”

My eyes close and my breathing seems to have a language of its own. He is too close. And my mind takes a minute to remember the sound of my name in his voice. It is my favourite word in his voice.

Was.

I silently wonder why he took the full name and not the surname which he usually does.

Did.

Damn, I’m already fleeting. Bloody focus, Callister. Shut him out. Shut him out. All the way out.

This is why I wanted to avoid him. Because this is what he does. He is a predator. He preys, he enjoys the hunt.

But not again.

I lean slightly away from him, open my eyes wide, look straight ahead and put on my best look of indifference.

“Zach, you will regret if you don’t get the hell out of my face. Right now.”

My voice cracks at the end and I so hope that he doesn’t catch it.

He slowly leans away with a satisfied smirk, and I get angry at my missing the warmth his proximity had created.

“Not at all a favourite place to be in, sweetheart.”

What, an awfully unpleasant piece of human flesh.

“Thankfully. I would really appreciate if you take the trouble to get your useless self out of this room, house and even better, my sight.” My voice has raised an octave higher unexpectedly and I hadn’t realised it.

“You dare order me out of my own fucking house standing on the floor of my very own room, Callister? Not so sure if I approve of that.”

His angry voice booms in the empty room and I jerk as I take a minute to analyze his words.

Hayden Mansion. Hayden.

Zach Hayden.

I close my eyes in realisation. Damn, how could have I missed that. It’s his house. It’s his freaking room! I mentally slap myself for being so stupid.

Suddenly this fact, makes me a bit anxious. And kind of scared, because angry Zach does takes that effect.

I swallow nervously and then look up nevertheless.

“Then don’t.”

With one last glance at the angry pair of eyes before me, I turn with lightning speed and start walking out of the room.

This should not have happened. After all this time, I did not have to see him. That too here. Now.

Now that I finally, finally had started to forget it all. I don’t understand why I had even hoped that he would change in the least bit. That too, when the sane part of me knew he would not. He would never.

I absolutely hate it – how hope, is such a reflex. How it can trick you into all sorts of pathetically unrealistic dreams. I suddenly stop dead in my tracks as my eyes fall on the guitar.

“I know it’s been a long time coming don’t you let me fall…”

Zach tilts his head downwards as he looks at my face to catch my lyrics.

“Ooh, how your lips undress me, hooked on your tongue.

Ooh love, your kiss is deadly, don’t stop”

I motion two down strums with my fingers indicating the beat drop and he plays them, exactly the way I wanted them to sound.

Our eyes connect and I could sense we both would have played the drop, the same way and wanted it to sound exactly the way it did, which makes both of us smile knowingly; with that inexplicable feeling of satisfaction of getting a musical note sound the exact way it did in your head.

I give a satiated smile with a nod and notice Zach giving a similar proud, cocky look, raising one of his eyebrows.

“I love it when you call me Senorita…” Luke imitates a sensual wave dance move beside me which extracts a loud laugh from me in between the lyrics and I sense Zach looking at me with a gentle smile.

Which makes me happier.

Certain eyes, when on you, do make you happier.

And his, did it the best.

I wipe the lone tear that falls, inconspicuously and raise my voice, without turning back to him.

“And for the record, my name is Alanna. And you will do well to call me exactly that, if at all.”

Author's note:

Zach Hayden makes the appearance.

** fanning the face **

Shawn Mendes.

Cue sigh; heart eyes; dizziness; darkness.

Musical moments can be so romantic, it’s too underrated.

Gear up for some action.

Like, vote, comment.

Love me some Mendes;)

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