[BL] CRAVING HIM: Addicted to His Voice-Chapter 355: Facing What Was Left Unsaid

~Evric’s POV~

He took a shaky breath and nodded slowly. "Okay," he whispered, the word barely a breath.

I leaned down, pressing a long, tender kiss to his forehead, sealing the unspoken promise between us. We curled into each other, arms entwined, holding so tightly it felt like we were trying to become one. In that embrace, the fear of the future quieted, replaced by the steady, unwavering rhythm of our hearts.

The morning sun began to filter through the curtains, painting the room in soft, golden hues. I woke up first, feeling the heavy, comforting weight of Zayn still tucked firmly against my side. I didn’t move; I just stayed there, propped up on one elbow, staring at him. In sleep, the lines of worry and the traces of last night’s tears had vanished, leaving him looking peaceful and ethereal in the early light.

I traced the line of his jaw with my eyes, marveling at how someone so strong could look so delicate. Just as I reached out to brush a stray curl from his forehead, his lashes fluttered.

Zayn slowly opened his eyes, blinking against the light. The moment his gaze met mine, before he could even utter a word or remember the weight of the world, I leaned down and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to his forehead.

"Morning, beautiful," I whispered against his skin.

A small, sleepy smile curved his lips as he let out a contented hum, nuzzling deeper into my chest. "Morning, Daddy," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to my chest. His voice was thick with sleep, rough and warm. Slowly, his fingers traced over my bicep, dragging lazily across my skin. "How long have you been watching me?"

"Long enough to know I’m the luckiest man alive," I murmured, sliding my hand down his back to pull him closer.

For a few precious minutes, we forgot about the phone call, the hospital, and the journey ahead. We just existed in the warmth of the sheets, exchanging soft kisses and whispered "I love yous." It was a quiet, romantic sanctuary, a final moment of peace before we had to step out and face the storm together.

I kissed the tip of his nose, watching him blush. "Ready to take on the day with me?"

Zayn took a deep breath, his eyes clearing with a new kind of resolve. "As long as you’re holding my hand, I’m ready for anything."

"Okay, baby," I said, beginning to shift so we could get up and start the day. "Let’s get moving."

But as I moved to stand, Zayn’s hand shot out, catching my arm and drawing me back into the warmth of the pillows. "Wait, Daddy," he murmured.

I leaned back, looking at him with a curious smile. "What is it, baby?"

He looked at me with a soft, earnest expression. "Last night... I didn’t get to satisfy you. It feels unfair. Can we just have a moment... just for us?"

I ran my hand down his arm, my heart melting. "Zayn, I’m fine, really. You don’t have to—"

"I want to," he insisted, his voice low and earnest. "I don’t know what’s waiting for us back home, or how long it’ll take for things to feel normal again. I might not want to be touched for a while, or I might be too overwhelmed... I just want this memory to carry me through."

Without waiting for another word, he tugged off the last piece of his nightwear—his trousers—leaving himself completely bare as I was. He crawled over me, heat radiating from his skin, and my body reacted to his presence instantly.

Our movements were slow, deep, and intentional. It wasn’t the frantic, desperate heat of the previous night; it was a beautiful, soul-deep connection.

I watched his face as he arched above me, making him moan and cry out my name until we both found a shattering, satisfying release. 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒆𝙬𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝒎

Afterward, we lay in a tangled heap of limbs, the only sound our synchronized breathing as I gently stroked his hair.

Eventually, the reality of the clock forced us to move. We shared a long, quiet shower and dressed for the journey. By the time we were ready, my driver had arrived.

While he began loading our bags into the car, I went to the kitchen and prepared a simple, quick meal for Zayn, making sure he had enough energy for the long trip ahead.

As we stood by the front door, Zayn looked back at the house, a bittersweet smile on his face. "I’m really going to miss this place," he admitted.

I stepped up behind him, wrapping my arms around his waist. "We’ll come back soon, I promise. This house isn’t going anywhere."

He rested his head against my shoulder, drew in one final breath of the quiet morning air, and gave a small nod. Together, we stepped outside, the heavy door clicking shut behind us as our journey back home quietly began.

As we settled into the backseat, Zayn leaned his weight against my shoulder. He stayed quiet for a while, eyes fixed on the scenery as it blurred past the window. Then he spoke softly.

"Baby."

"Yes, love?" I answered.

He took a slow breath, his jaw tightening just a little. "Send a message to my father. Tell him to meet me at The JOL at 7:30 tonight." He paused, his voice firm when he continued. "I’m not going to him. If he wants to see me, he’ll come to me."

"That’s okay, baby," I said softly, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. "Whatever makes this easier for you, I’m with you. Always."

I did exactly as he asked, typing out the message with the location and time. I felt the weight of the situation settle over us as I hit send. The journey home was long, the miles passing in a mix of comfortable silence and soft music until we finally pulled up to Zayn’s house, safe and sound.

Zayn tried to rest, but the weight of the coming meeting kept him from truly relaxing. After a while, he got to his feet and turned to me, saying he should cook something so we could have a proper meal. I stopped him gently.

"No," I said. "Let’s not stay here. Let’s go to your restaurant instead."

When we arrived at the restaurant, the atmosphere shifted instantly. His staff swarmed him, their faces lighting up with genuine joy. "Boss! You’re back!" they cheered, clearly having missed his presence.

Zayn offered them a warm, tired smile and greeted them back, but his mind was elsewhere. He led me straight through the dining room and into the privacy of his office.

Once we were settled, Zayn called one of his servers and ordered a meal for us. We ate in a quiet, focused state, the ticking of the clock on the wall feeling louder with every passing minute.

To pass the time, Zayn made a few calls to his friends, his voice steady but his eyes constantly drifting to the door.

Finally, the hands on the clock struck the hour. The sun had dipped below the horizon, and the evening rush of the restaurant hummed outside the office door. A soft knock came, and one of Zayn’s staff peeked inside.

"Sir, there’s someone here to see you," the staff member said from the doorway. "An older man."

Zayn stiffened beside me. He met my eyes, his face pale but firm. "It’s him," he said under his breath.