DRUNK CONVERSATIONS

29.

ZARA

Zara sits up. It's two a.m. It has been two days since Jay rescued her from the streets and brought her to his apartment, and she hasn't gone home since.

She gets out of bed and paces back and forth, back and forth, pulling her sleeveless t-shirt over her bare legs. By now, she has made up her mind. She walks out of the spare bed room where she has put up and slowly walks into Jay's bedroom.

He wakes up and rubs his eyes when his bed creaks as Zara sits down.

"Hey, you okay?" He asks sleepily, hoisting himself up on his elbows and squinting at her as his hair falls into his eyes. Zara has never seen anything quite as sexy. She slips under the covers beside him, and drapes an arm over his bare chest. She can feel his heart beat quicken.

"Zara?" He asks in confusion.
She sits up, and looks him in the eyes in earnest. "I'm not drunk tonight," she hints. "Can i kiss you?"
Jay smiles at her, his eyes gleaming sleepily. Instead of replying, he kisses her instead.

"You ready to hear my long story?" She whispers, still kissing him.
"Yeah," he breathes.

She snuggles into his chest. "Um, well, uh," her voice cracks a little. Zara isn't exactly a 'let-you-see-it-all' type of a person. But her intuition tells her that there is something about Jay worth trusting. "Both my parents have been alcoholics for as long as I can remember, my mother is also an obsessive gambler and my dad has dreadful anger issues." She squeezes her eyes shut to stop the memory replaying itself.

"Before I moved to university, I was part of a routine. I was either the punch bag, or the toy. It depended on their mood." She looks at the reaction on his handsome face. It is both shocked and hurt. "I guess getting drunk kind of numbed that memory for a while, that's why I got into the habit."

"I'm so sorry, Zara." He kisses her forehead.
She pokes his dimple. "It's okay." She replies quietly, trying to deal with her demons. They stay quietly entangled for a while.

Half an hour later, Zara's t-shirt is on the floor.