Fifty-Four

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Chapter Fifty-Four

☠ Chapter Fifty-Four ☠

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ZAYN'S POV

Early morning

I am a piece of shit.

That's all I could compare myself to this morning because I'd just left a beautiful, sexy girl naked in bed like a dirty, used one night stand. I've been sitting in my car for the last ten minutes, seemingly staring off into space because I don't understand.

Last night something inexplainable happened. It was like every time I touched Arielle's skin these weirdly familiar pulses jolted through me. Then there was something about the way that she shivered with pleasure whenever I kissed the skin on her back. And those times when she'd moan out my name—

All of it seemed so oddly familiar.

I run my hands frustratedly through my hair. What the hell's going on! Am I having some sort of weird flashbacks or am I imagining things? Am I just imagining some sort of previous connection with Arielle because I feel such a connection with her now? I sink my head against the steering wheel because I don't know anymore.

For some reason, I almost feel as if Arielle was my girlfriend at some point in time. But that's the thing, if she was, then why isn't she still with me now? Why would she leave me when I'm at my worst? Why wouldn't she come forward and help me try to remember her? I just don't get it. None of this makes any fucking sense.

I would think that if she was once my girlfriend, I wouldn't have any issue in remembering her. I remember that Kit always told me that Arielle was the one stalking me. I mean, I never fucking believed that, and I still don't, but I don't have many clues about the girl I'd had that dream about a few weeks ago and it almost makes me think about Kit again.

That girl whose face I couldn't see when I had that flashback about a woman drawing on my chest. But since I couldn't see any of her features, I can't use it as a reference. I can only assume that the girl in that flashback is the girl I was once with—although, maybe that's just a dream too, and not real. I would think that if that was Arielle in my dream, I would've noticed the tattoo on her thigh, but I don't remember that, making me think it wasn't her I was remembering.

The only other clue I have is when I found that strawberry scented soap in my shower. I think that whoever left it was living with me, and accidentally left it behind during their hurry to leave my house. I can only deduce that they used that soap, meaning they should smell of it. But Arielle didn't last night—she smelt of vanilla, or an expensive, exotic perfume.

Fuck! This is all so confusing!

The headache is instant, and it's not from the hangover I'm experiencing.

I don't know how to feel. I don't know how to act. I don't understand what's going on anymore because I don't know what's real or not. I don't know anything! I feel like a fucking weak-ass wishbone being pulled in two directions.

Supersonic | Zayn Malik | AU |Dove le storie prendono vita. Scoprilo ora