C8 Cupid Dreams

The first thing I felt when I woke up was a splitting headache. My head felt as if multiple people were beating drums in my head. Then, I heard the sound of someone flipping through a newspaper.

I opened my eyes to see crystal chandeliers. I tried to sit up, but a wave of dizziness hit me. The room was elegantly decorated, and the unfamiliar surroundings made me realize I wasn't in my own bed.

As I scanned the room, I noticed I was in a parlor adorned with vintage furniture and leather sofas. Suddenly, a refined voice interrupted my thoughts, saying, "I see you are finally awake." I turned towards the source, finding a distinguished figure seated in an armchair, regarding me with amusement.

"How were your cupid dreams?" Zayn said, dropping the newspaper on the table beside the chair he sat in.

"Cupid dreams?" I asked back, a bit confused.

Zayn chuckled, a low hum escaping his lips. "Oh, you know, you were whimpering, moaning, blushing, so I guess you were having cupid dreams." He smirked and added, "Or should I say wet dreams?"

My face turned crimson, "I…I…" I stammered searching for words to respond. "Oh my goodness , are you always like this with ladies?"

Zayn laughed, "Well that's a quick change of topic. See you are a bit smart."

I quickly composed myself, sitting up properly, denying Zayn's playful insinuations. "No, no, not wet dreams or cupid dreams," I stammered, my embarrassment evident.

As I spoke, my eyes became distant, and a touch of sadness crept into my expression. "I was having dreams of... a certain memory," I admitted reluctantly.

Zayn's eyes perked up, a hint of understanding in his gaze. "Of a loved one," he remarked, his tone softening.

I sighed, conceding with a soft, "Yes, of a loved one."

Zayn leaned forward, a knowing smile playing on his lips. "Jaxon," he said knowingly.

I hesitated before nodding. "Maybe."

Zayn chuckled lightly. "Well, that's normal. You seem rather in love with him."

I nodded again, a somber expression clouding my features. "I was. But since he decided to marry someone else on our wedding day, I guess that feeling was never reciprocated."

"What's so interesting about a man that makes a woman fall in love with them?" Zayn inquired with a raised eyebrow.

I frowned, replying, "Aren't you a man?"

Zayn smirked, "I don't want my women to fall for me." He cocked his head, his voice taking on a seductive tone, "I'd prefer them to fall on their knees, though."

I rolled my eyes, retorting, "You're just like the papers say you are. A dangerous bachelor who is a playboy."

Zayn laughed, "That's a really long name. But on a serious note, do you want my advice?"

"Why do I feel like this is not going to be good?" I questioned, a sense of unease settling over me.

Zayn leaned back, a contemplative expression on his face. "Well, it is. What if you get an offer for revenge? You're pained, you're hurt. Best to do is to destroy those who destroyed you."

As he spoke, memories flooded back, a painful remembrance of the past. I could almost feel the weight of the scar on my thigh as I thought about how they snatched everything I had.

I instinctively reached out to scratch the scar, it itched. I still remembered the way my stepmother had used her hair straightener to press against my thighs, burning me for talking bad about her previous daughter.

I looked at Zayn, my eyes clouded over. Even though I have been hurt, I still can't find it in my heart to cause revenge.