Sooner Than Later, I'll Need a Saviour

“Zacky, you’re sleeping in your bed, deal with it.” Zacky huffed, his arms still crossed over his chest, and lightly glaring at me. I held the same pose, challenging his glare. We have been arguing for the past ten minutes, it was now midnight, and I was beyond tired. After the photo shoot (which had taken an hour and a half since we kept screwing around) we had eaten and then reached this topic: where was I sleeping.

“No, you’re the guest, you should take the bed.”

“And that’s the point, I’m the guest. I shouldn’t run you out of your bed. Now sleep in it and I’ll sleep on the couch.” I jumped over the back of the couch and landed in the pile of comforters. It had gotten awfully cold tonight and his heat was fucking up. Go figure, right?

“Fine! Wait, don’t you have pajamas?” I looked down to see the clothes from the photo shoot still on my body. I kicked off the boots, removed my socks, and then stripped off the leggings.

“Tada!” I exclaimed, throwing the beanie across the room and striking a pose. Zacky clicked his tongue, shaking his head. I sighed, letting my arms fall limp and my head fall back onto my pillows I had been provided. “Okay, no. I don’t have any pajamas. Happy now?”

“Come on, you can borrow a shirt of mine. I’m sure they're all probably longer than that shirt,” he spoke, walking over to his room. I obediently stood and followed him, pulling at the end of the shirt was barely covered the - uhm - private parts. I hid my body behind the separator while Zacky walked into his closet. He reemerged with a sleeveless Jack Daniels shirt. “Here you go. Go ahead and go use the bathroom to change.”

“Thanks.” I took the black material before walking quickly to the bathroom. Once the door was shut I removed my shirt and replaced it with Zacky’s. It reach to my mid thigh and I felt much better about the length. I folded up the grey shirt before placing the necklace and bracelet on top of it, deciding to leave it on the counter. As I stepped back out and headed to the couch I groaned. “Nu uh.”

“Too late,” Zacky grinned from his spot on the couch, hands behind his head. He was changed into only pajama pants, making my eyes attach with his tattoos. I instantly went back to glaring at him, my hands on my hips.

“No, get your ass in your bed,” I ordered, pointing my finger to the bed behind me. Zacky squinted at it and shook his head.

“Much more comfortable here.”

“Stop acting like a child and get in your own bed.”

“Make me,” Zacky challenged in a way that remind me of a five year old trying to get their friend to make them stop poking them. And, me being me, I decided to try that challenge. I stomped over to his, grabbed an arm, and yanked. Instead of moving him an inch I slipped on the hardwood floor and hit my ass on it. I groaned, rubbing my butt. “You okay?”

“No,” I snapped, turning my back to him and crossing my arms over my chest. He sighed and I couldn’t help but smirk as I heard him stand.

“Look, I’m sorry, okay? I’ll go sleep on the bed.”

“Good boy.” I crawled onto the couch and pulled the comforters over my body. I smiled and snuggled into them as I shut my eyes.

“Did I just get played?!”

“Damn straight.” He muttered something under his breath before playfully storming over to his bed. In his room he hit the master light switch for the apartment. I only knew because soon there was no light behind my eyelids. I soon settled into a peaceful sleep.

That was broken only two hours later. I shot up in my spot when I heard thunder crackle. I whimpered, sinking into the blankets, pulling the comforter up until only my eyes were exposed. More thunder and lighting flashed behind Zacky’s closed window. I could hear the strong wind and rain pounding on the window. Thunderstorms was a childish fear I had never grown out of in the eighteen years of my life.

“It’s just rain. It can’t hurt you,” I told myself, much like my father had done when I was eight. Well, that was before he got killed in a tsunami that hit his base in the army. Then my step-father came and he was no help whatsoever in these types of situations. I jumped again and felt tears spring to my eyes. Why did I have to think?!

Without another thought I sprang off the couch and dashed to Zacky’s ‘room’. I ducked under the covers, hugging one of his unused pillows to my chest. I heard a faint ‘what the fuck’ and something shifting to my right. Soon I could hear a lap click on and hear chuckling. The blanket I was under lifted to show Zacky sitting up and a halo around his head from the light.

“What’s wrong Alice?” Zacky asked, all joking gone when he saw my wide eyed stare.

“I don’t - ” I cut off by a crackle of thunder to let out a girly shriek and toss the pillow to the side to wrap my arms around Zacky’s waist. “I don’t do thunderstorms.”

“Uhm, I’m sorry?” He was at a loss of things to say. Not that I blame him. It wasn’t everyday he probably wakes up because an adult terrified of storms.

“Can I - Can I just stay here with you? I have bad memories with mother nature,” I whimpered. I felt totally helpless and I hated it, but I couldn’t change it. I am - probably always will be - afraid of thunderstorms to panic attack high.

“Sure.” He flipped off the lamp before settling back into his pillows, arms wrapped around my shoulders. I laid my head on his chest and shut my eyes, trying to only zone into the beating of his heart. When another lightning strike lit up behind my eyelids, I tensed up. Zacky soon began to hum a song, running a hand through my hair. I instantly relaxed again and soon could only hear his voice.

I, once again, fell into a peaceful sleep. But this one was a lot more comfortable.



I woke up the next morning, unsure of where I was. I knew I was in Zacky’s apartment. I was on the couch, right? I turned over and didn’t fall off the furniture I laid on. Okay, not the couch, that’s for sure. It was then I felt something warm around my waist. I forced my eyes open and saw the couch across the room. I looked down and saw very muscular and tattooed arms around my body.

I covered my mouth with one hand to stop the screaming sure to leave. I had slept with Zacky. I looked down to see us both still clothed. Okay, I didn’t sleep with him, but we shared the same bed? When did that happen? Suddenly it all hit me. Thunderstorm, childish thinking, ending up in bed in Zacky. I wanted to slap myself, but that might end up waking Zacky.

How was I going to get out of this? I lightly grabbed his wrists and tried to move them. He suddenly removed his arms and flipped onto his stomach, his right arm hanging off the side of the bed. I giggled. He looked absolutely adorable with hair all crazy and his piercings still in. I could get used to waking up like this. I shook my head. Stupid Alice, you’re not good enough for him.

I slipped out of bed, tip toeing to his bathroom. As I shut the door I stared at the clothes that were mine - still on the floor - and then at the half of the outfit Zacky had lent me. I bit my lip and pulled on my old clothes. I folded his shirt I had worn neatly, adding it to the pile. I tip toed back out to see him still asleep. Walking over to the coffee table, I placed his clothes there. I then folded the rest of the clothes and placed them on the pile, boots on top.

I folded up the two comforters and placed the pillows on top. I picked up my bag before giving one last look towards Zacky. I quickly left his apartment, trying to walk and slip my shoes on at the same time. Soon I was in the elevator on an awkward eight in the morning ride.

When I reached the bottom the skank from yesterday was glaring at me. I decided to make sure to try to fix my messy hair in the reflection of the shiny metal doors as she watched. I winked at her before strutting outside, my hips swinging.

I risked a glance back and was happy I did. She looked like someone had just stolen her favorite teddy bear. I walked down the street, stumbling from the laughter leaving my mouth. Suddenly my good humor was gone as my mind trailed to Zacky who was still asleep, lying in bed clueless. I had no choice. I was going much too fond of him.

“And people I grow fond of get hurt,” I muttered sadly.