[BL] CRAVING HIM: Addicted to His Voice-Chapter 321: Anger, Apologies, and Affection
~Evric’s POV~
He stopped me instantly, pulling his hand away and pushing back slightly from the table. "Enough. Don’t talk about him again and—"
I didn’t let him finish the rejection. I knew I had to push him, gently, past his initial defensive wall.
"I understand how you’re feeling right now," I said, my voice steady but firm. "I know this brings up a lifetime of anger and pain, and you have every right to feel that. But no matter how much you want to shut down or get angry, you still need to see him."
I leaned in, trying to catch his gaze. "He’s your father, Zayn. He left you when you were younger, yes. That failure is entirely his. But ignoring him now doesn’t fix the pain; it only denies you the chance to look him in the eye and say everything you’ve ever wanted to say. It denies you the chance to see if he is truly a changed man, or if he’s the same selfish person you remember."
I continued, my argument heartfelt. "Closure doesn’t always come from walking away. Sometimes, it comes from facing the person who hurt you and realizing their power over you is finally gone. Give yourself that power, Zayn. Just try to meet him."
Zayn looked up then, his eyes sharp and wounded. "If you were the one," he challenged me, his voice trembling slightly, "if your father suddenly reappeared and wanted a meeting after two decades of absence, would you say the same thing to yourself?"
I froze. The question hit me with the force of an actual blow, stripping away my carefully constructed professional detachment. I was silent, unable to speak, stunned by the realization that my advice, while logical, was cold compared to the depth of his personal pain.
I opened my mouth, searching for a reply that wasn’t hypocritical, a way to explain the difference. "Zayn, I—"
He cut me off, the strain reaching its limit. "It’s enough, Evric."
But I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t let him close the door on a decision he might later regret. "No, it’s not enough," I insisted, my voice low and persistent. "I know this is hard, but you deserve clarity, not just bitterness. You need to—"
Before I could finish, Zayn exploded. He stood up so quickly his chair scraped back across the floor, and he shouted at me, the first time I had ever heard him truly lose control.
"I said enough! Don’t you dare tell me what I need! You don’t know what it’s like!"
I was completely shocked. I stood slowly, the sudden noise and anger in the quiet house a painful, jarring experience. My mind went blank. I had pushed too far.
Without a word, I turned and walked toward the bedroom. I needed space. I needed to put distance between the anger and the deep love I felt. I grabbed my jacket and my briefcase, preparing to tell him I was leaving for work.
I hadn’t even reached the door when I felt him rush toward me. His arms wrapped around my chest from behind, holding me fast. His cheek was pressed against my back, and his shoulders were shaking.
"I’m sorry, baby," he whispered, his voice thick with tears and regret. "I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to yell at you. Please don’t go."
I instantly dropped the briefcase. I turned fully in his arms, pulling him close, crushing him against me. I held the back of his head, rubbing his back firmly.
"Shh," I murmured against his hair. "I know, love. I know you didn’t mean it. It’s okay. You’re allowed to be angry. It’s not about me."
We stood there for a long time, the argument dissolving into the intimate embrace, his emotions finally safe in my arms.
When we finally pulled back, Zayn was calmer, though his eyes were still slightly red. He held my face gently.
"I need a moment to process all this, Daddy," he admitted, taking a deep, shuddering breath. "I think... I need to go see my mother tomorrow. Just for a couple of days. I’ll be back in two days."
I immediately shifted into planning mode. "I can make time. If you want me to go with you, I will."
"No, no, you don’t have to," he said quickly, looking worried about my schedule. "You have work, right? You need to be at the office."
"I can easily rearrange my meetings, baby," I insisted, already pulling out my phone to delegate. "I can clear my schedule for a day or two."
Zayn shook his head stubbornly. "Evric, I need to go alone."
But I refused to give in. After seeing him break down like that, there was no way I’d let him go anywhere without me. "Zayn, I’m going with you."
He rolled his eyes, a mischievous glint returning to his gaze. He poked my chest playfully. "Daddy, what’s this about? Do you think I’m trying to escape from you? Or do you think I won’t come back?"
I lowered my eyes, putting on my best ’pouting baby’ expression. "Maybe," I whispered. I let out a low, theatrical whine. "I don’t want to sleep in an empty bed for two nights. I need my baby."
Zayn couldn’t hold back his smile. He sighed dramatically, but the battle was clearly lost. "Fine, you big baby. You win." He leaned in and kissed me. "We can travel together and visit my mom."
After the agreement, I stayed with Zayn for a while longer, making sure the lingering tension from the earlier argument was completely gone. We planned our departure time for the next day, and only then did I leave for the office.
When work finally ended, I didn’t go straight to Zayn’s house. Instead, I headed home to pack my bags for the two-day trip.
Once I was inside my closet, organizing suits and toiletries, I initiated a video call.
"Just packing," I said, propping my phone up against a stack of clothes.
On his end, Zayn was already folding shirts into a small suitcase. The screen showed his bedroom, and the familiar sight of him packing.
We talked and packed simultaneously, our voices filling the two separate spaces.
When the packing was finally done for both of us, we simply lay down in our respective beds, the phone screen glowing softly between us. The conversation drifted into soft murmurs, then silent, heavy breathing.
We talked until we both finally fell asleep, the last thing either of us saw being the soft, beloved face of the other on the screen.
The next morning, I showed up at Zayn’s door earlier than we planned.
I rang the bell once and rested against the doorframe, waiting for him to open up.
When Zayn opened the door, he stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes wide with sleepy shock before they crinkled into a huge smile. He couldn’t help but laugh, a bright, clear sound that filled my morning.
"Daddy! Why did you come this early?" he teased as he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around me. "You know I’m not going anywhere without you. Do you really think I’d leave you behind?"
I held him tightly, letting my face rest against his neck for a moment. "That’s what you get for agreeing to travel with a big baby," I murmured, then pulled back to admire his adorably messy morning hair. "I trust you, baby."
"I decided I’d rather wait here than at my house," I confessed, brushing my thumb over his cheek.
"Besides... I was thinking we could squeeze in two rounds before we leave. I need to be fully energized, because I know we won’t be able to touch each other for the next two days—my baby is a little too loud."
Zayn laughed softly and kissed me. "Will two rounds be enough for you, Mr. Draeven?"
I smirked and leaned close to his ear. "I don’t mind adding a third... if only you can manage to sit properly in the car afterward. We have a long... drive ahead, sweetheart."
"Bring it on, Mr. Draeven... don’t worry about me, I can handle myself."
I followed him inside, smirking. "Someone’s about to beg for mercy..."
Zayn turned to me, a confident grin on his face. "In case you didn’t know, I’m a badass now."
"Wow," I said, matching his grin. "Then show me what you’ve got..."
