The Self-proclaimed Lover

Lover - a word that doesn't take even a millisecond for anyone to understand, but still manages to sound as foreign as a different language for one good reason that isn't that hard to decipher -

The fact that it's the least in her list of expectations, that is.

"What is this guy babbling about now?" she deadpanned in silence, skepticism written all over her flat expression.

Anastasia feels like she's being toyed with, or it's just probably her unassuming side talking. She has braced herself for any answer that's other than a lover.

That word didn't even register too well since it might've been not included in her vocabulary at all. It just seems to sound like an exclusive matter for the living or to anyone else other than the undead.

Though Anastasia admits that she almost falls for Zen's heartfelt gestures and there's a probability that he's telling the truth, if she isn't feeling like it and she's not up for the risk of trusting too easily, then she's not.

"I'm sorry, Zen, but that's... That's kinda hard to believe, and even if that's true, you can't just... l-love... a zombie. To be honest, everything about you still smells fishy to me," Anastasia blurted out a bit reluctantly before pushing him away and averting her gaze.

"I understand..." Zen trailed off with a crestfallen smile, slowly backing away in disappointment.

"I might need to wait for your memories to come back then," he suddenly added, much to her surprise.

"They will?"

"Yeah, I assure you. You've been sleeping for almost three years now, but as time passes, your body will slowly remember how it used to be when you're still human."

There's something to look forward to after all.

Anastasia may not know exactly why she's here or how she gets to this flummoxing position, and her past may also not be a good place to visit, but at the very least, this overwhelming emptiness within her will be filled at last. She may have lost her life, but she'll still have those memories that can tell her who she really is.

Even though she doesn't have a single destination in mind at this point, she'll still remember where she comes from. At the very least, her human memories may ease this agonizing void she's currently feeling, an inescapable emotion brought by the fact that she's no longer living.

"What are you planning to do with me now, though? You kept me in a coffin and went all through that trouble of bringing me back. Surely, you're after something else," Anastasia equivocated, still on her guard.

The possibility that she's going to be utilized again is making her innards churn in apprehension. She already knows better after all.

Going by her memories at that laboratory, she's aware that there's something about her that people crave.

"I see that your stubbornness stays with you. I already told you that I'm your lover. If you think that I'm going to hurt you, then you're wrong. I won't... Ever," Zen inexhaustibly pointed out, which then suddenly gave her an idea.

"You won't, huh...? What if I escape again? And I mean, escape for real. I'm not coming back. You'd let me, wouldn't you?"

At that, Zen briefly freezes, eyes widening in flummox.

Hearing those words made something snap within him. His vision turns dark for a fraction of second.

Anastasia, on the other hand, is just simply testing him again. Actions speak louder than words after all. Facial expressions and body language are good examples of them.

It's not like she really wants to go out either. What she's truly after is for him to finally spill the beans - if he'll confess that he wants her to do something for his own selfish gain, that is.

"You can't go. Didn't you see already? There's nothing and no one to find there. It's dangerous," Zen taunted, his mood palpably dampening in each passing second.

"I'll be fine, though. Didn't you say that other zombies won't eat me? And even if they do, it's not like I'm in danger," Anastasia retorted, tilting her head as if pondering deeply.

"What do you want to do out there anyway?"

"I'd like to see things for myself. It's not that I don't completely trust what you said. Seeing is still believing, isn't it?"

"It's not worth it. I'll just tell you everything you want to know. I'll even give you proofs if you want."

"You don't have to go all through that trouble, though. I'm the one who's seeking for answers, so I should-"

"I SAID NO!"

Then, she paused.

Caught off guard by Zen's sudden outburst, Anastasia takes a step back and gawks at him as if witnessing a once dormant volcano erupt.

"You're not leaving! You're staying here!"

Then, everything went still.

Zen has lost it.

Since meeting him today, Anastasia never doubted that he's the very definition of placidity - always calm and collected. He appears like he's in control of everything, but now, it turns out that she's probably the only one he can't seem to handle.

Never did she think that he'd burst out like this. Though he didn't say any hidden agenda, his reaction alone is a key to this riddle.

For some reason, he sounds mad - not for the sake of his own goal, but for her.

Zen, on the other hand, is still struggling to bottle it all up.

It's not time yet. He can't let her out of his sight. If he does, then there's no meaning to all his hard work.

If he gets left behind once more, then there's no point to everything. In fact, if she leaves him this time, he doesn't know what he'll do anymore.

Then again, this is so like Anastasia - always the inquisitive and headstrong one.

Right now, though, Zen has to keep it together. She still has no idea who he is, so first impressions are everything. He can't afford scaring her off again.

"Anyway, you should get some more rest. Feel free to use this room as your own. I'll be downstairs," Zen started again, evading her gaze.

Thinking that he should cool his head off for now, he then finally takes his exit, leaving her in dumbfounded silence.