Chapter 155: Chapter 155: Don’t You Dare Scare Me Again
Staying alone in the room was suffocating. The silence pressed in on me, and the empty space was colder without Zayn’s presence. I told myself I didn’t care about anyone else, his friends weren’t my concern, and I wasn’t about to force myself into circles I didn’t belong in. But the truth was simple: I wasn’t avoiding them; I was avoiding Nicki.
Still, the boredom gnawed at me, and more than that, the pain of being away from him. My pride could go to hell. I picked up my phone and dialed Zayn.
The line barely rang twice before it connected. But it wasn’t Zayn’s voice.
"Evric!" a voice gasped, panicked. "It’s Zayn, he’s... he’s not breathing properly, he collapsed! Come quickly!"
I froze, blood draining from my face. "What?" My voice cracked, raw with disbelief.
"Come quickly!" the voice repeated, sharp, desperate. "It’s Nantam speaking... Zayn’s not breathing well!"
For a second, my brain went blank. The world tilted. Then instinct took over. My hands moved before my thoughts caught up, yanking open my bag. I shoved aside clothes, keys, everything, until my fingers closed around the small case.
The EpiPen.
I’d ordered it the moment I found out about his allergy. Zayn had refused it, told me he hated the idea of depending on something like that. He said, I’ll be careful with what I eat, he had insisted, his stubbornness cutting like a knife. I’d tried to persuade him, but he’d shaken his head.
"Babe, don’t order it. I don’t need it. And if you do, I won’t use it."
He tried to convince me it wasn’t necessary, that his attacks weren’t frequent, that what happened that day was just a mistake.
But I’d ordered one anyway. Quietly. For moments like this. For the nightmare I prayed would never come.
Now that nightmare was here.
Clutching the pen in my hand, I bolted out of the room, my heart pounding so violently I could hear it in my ears. My legs moved on instinct, my chest burning as I rushed down the hall, through the corridors, toward him.
Hold on, Zayn. Just hold on.
The moment I reached Nantam’s apartment, I didn’t bother knocking. I shoved the door open, my chest heaving, and froze at the sight before me.
Zayn was on the floor, his body trembling, one hand clutching his throat as he struggled for breath. His skin was pale, his lips tinged with blue. Dean was kneeling beside him, panicked, shouting his name over and over. Nantam’s voice cracked as he barked orders none of us could really hear through the chaos. Nicki stood near the table.
"Zayn!" My voice tore out of me, louder than I’d ever shouted in my life.
All their heads snapped toward me, but I didn’t see them... only him. Only the broken, gasping boy on the floor.
I dropped to my knees beside him, grabbing his clammy hand. "Baby, it’s me. It’s Evric. Hold on." My voice cracked, my throat burning.
His eyes fluttered weakly, struggling to focus on me. That look, it shattered something deep in my chest.
With trembling hands, I uncapped the EpiPen, my movements sharp and practiced despite the terror flooding me.
I pressed it into his thigh, releasing the dose. Zayn flinched, but I held him tighter, my other hand cupping his face. "Breathe, baby. Please... breathe."
Silence followed. The longest silence of my life.
Then, he gasped. A raw, desperate drag of air that made his chest rise sharply. My heart lurched.
"That’s it," I whispered, tears stinging my eyes. I pulled him against me, holding him as if the world might rip him away if I loosened my grip. "That’s it, baby. You’re safe. You’re okay. I’m right here."
Around me, his friends exhaled in shaky relief, murmurs of shock and awe breaking through the panic. But I didn’t care about them. I didn’t care about their wide eyes, their whispered words, or the way they looked at me like they were seeing me for the first time.
The only thing that mattered was the fragile rise and fall of his chest in my arms.
I pressed my forehead to his hair, voice low and shivering.
After making sure he was at least stable enough to move, I quickly pulled out my phone and called my driver, my voice tight with worry. "Bring the car here right away and tell Karl to come with you."
Within minutes, the car pulled up. I slid an arm around Zayn, supporting him carefully. His weight leaned heavily against me, his breath uneven, but I refused to let him falter.
"I’ll take him to the hospital first for further examination," I told his friends firmly, meeting their anxious eyes. They all nodded, murmuring their agreement. "We’ll follow in our own car," one of them said, but I didn’t linger another second.
Karl opened the door, and together we eased Zayn into the backseat. The driver started the engine the moment I climbed in with him. "Straight to the hospital," I ordered, my tone leaving no room for hesitation.
As the city lights blurred past the window, Zayn’s arms suddenly tightened around me. His grip was desperate, as if he were fighting a silent battle within himself. My heart gripped at the helplessness in his embrace. I wrapped him closer, stroking his back in steady circles.
"I’ve got you," I whispered against his hair, holding him as though I could shield him from whatever storm was raging inside. "Just hold on a little longer. You’re not alone, I’m right here."
And though his body was weak, Zayn clung tighter, burying his face against me like I was the only thing keeping him grounded.
The drive to the hospital blurred. Every stoplight felt like a test; every bump made him flinch. I kept one hand on his knee, the other threaded through his fingers so he wouldn’t let go. When we pulled up to A&E, I leapt out, scooped him up again, and practically dragged him inside.
Nurses swarmed us in the best way possible: practiced, precise. I answered their questions on autopilot... known allergy to shellfish, exposure suspected at dinner, epinephrine given in the thigh, time recorded. A monitor was clipped to his finger and someone put oxygen on him with a gentle, efficient calm that made my knees stop shaking.
They wheeled him into a treatment room. A young doctor scanned the notes and nodded. "You gave epinephrine. Right call," she said. "We’ll observe him. Run a chest X-ray. Watch for biphasic reactions.
The doctor glanced at me again. "Any prior hospitalizations for this?"
"Yes," I admitted quickly. "Just within the last two weeks. He had another attack while I was away in Dubai. He ended up in the hospital then too."
Her brows pinched together, concern flickering across her face. "Two episodes this close together? That’s serious. He should’ve been referred to an allergy specialist immediately. It’s not safe to assume he’ll just ’manage’ it."
I swallowed hard, guilt twisting in my chest. "I didn’t even know about the allergy until that attack. He never told me. Said it wasn’t frequent, that he could control it."
The doctor shook her head firmly. "Food allergies don’t work like that. One mistake can be fatal. He’s lucky both times someone was there to help."
The doctor finally lifted her head from Zayn’s chart and gave me a small nod.
"We need to stabilize him fully. Please wait outside for now."
My chest clenched, but I forced myself to obey. I stepped into the corridor, pacing the floor as if every second were a punishment.
Moments later, Nantam, Dean, and Nicki came rushing down the hall, their faces drained of color.
"How’s it going?" Nathan demanded.
"Is he okay?" Dean’s voice cracked with fear.
I couldn’t bring myself to answer. My throat was too tight, my mind too raw. It was Mr. Karl who finally spoke, calm and steady.
"They’re attending to him."
The hours crawled by until the doctor reappeared, pulling off her gloves. Relief softened her expression as she gave us the words I’d been desperate to hear.
"He’s stable now. You can go in."
The doors swung open. We filed inside together, but the world blurred around me. Voices overlapped, footsteps shuffled, but I heard none of it.
All I saw was Zayn, pale and fragile against the white sheets, oxygen resting under his nose.
I moved straight to him, the world fading around me. My lips pressed softly to his forehead, lingering there as if to convince myself he was real. With a shaking hand, I brushed back his hair, needing to see his face clearly, needing to remind myself he was still here.
I kissed every place my lips could reach, his nose, his cheek, the curve of his jaw each one carrying the weight of my fear and the love I couldn’t hold back. Finally, I bent lower, pressing a trembling kiss to his lips.
Tears slipped free before I could stop them. My voice cracked as I whispered against his skin,
"Babe... don’t you dare scare me like this again."
Behind me, I heard Dean exhale, almost in awe.
"Wow," he murmured. "This is love. Evric truly loves Zayn."
Then something suddenly popped into my mind, and I turned to Zayn’s friends, my voice tight with concern. "Wait... can someone tell me... how did this happen?
How did Zayn end up eating shellfish?"