Ziff’s Endearing
~08~
“What on earth are you doing!” I shrieked, attempting to run from him.
But, of course, nothing was working in my favor.
With my injured foot and Ziff—a living nightmare that haunted me both awake and asleep—he grabbed hold of my wrist, unrelenting.
“Go open that door, and you’re definitely becoming my wife!” he snarled menacingly, and I had a terrible feeling he actually meant it.
“What’s gotten into you?
You can’t do this.
I need to open the door, or papa’s going to break it down.” I tried to reason with him, but he seemed utterly unfazed.
What on earth was going on in that mind of his?
“So, your papa… how old is he, anyway!”
“Over forty.
You idiot, let go of my arm!”
As we bickered, he still refused to let go of my wrist.
It was like I had said before—soon I was going to have to buy handcuffs for him if he kept up with this ridiculous obsession.
But, ahh… this is no time to be thinking about that.
Right now…
I need to hide this guy and open the door for my parents.
“He could be your dad, you dimwit.
What the heck were you thinking!” he barked back, his face flushing a shade darker by the second.
Just look at him—this was a full-blown Ziff temper tantrum.
“Of course, he’s my dad.
What’s wrong with you!” I nearly whimpered as I heard the door handle start to rattle.
My eyes widened, my heart pounding like the beat of a drum in some blazing rock song.
“Huh?” Suddenly, the all-too-clever Ziff had a look of complete confusion on his face.
When a guy as cunning as Ziff suddenly went dumb, he was clueless on a whole other level, and I was about to lose my mind.
“You, over there—now.
Get out…”
I half-hobbled, half-pushed Ziff toward the balcony, seizing the chance while he was still clueless.
I shoved him outside, quickly sliding the glass door shut and drawing the curtain to shield him from my parents’ view.
“Panya, what are you doing in there, dear?
Why haven’t you opened the door?”
Dad’s voice, booming from outside, made me jump.
I had barely finished drawing the curtain to block off their view of the lunatic who was standing wide-eyed at the balcony just in time.
“Haha, um, just about to clean the room,” I said, fumbling to lock the sliding door as well.
It seemed like Ziff was finally getting the situation because I could hear him pounding on the glass.
Exhaling through in relief as if lifting a huge weight off my shoulders, I turned to smile as sweetly as I could at my dad and mom, both of whom were now eyeing me with obvious suspicion.
“You, cleaning your room?
Now, that’s a surprise, Panya,” Mom said, eyebrows knitted.
“Hehe.”
I laughed awkwardly, having no idea how to play this off as I limped over to where Papa was sitting on the sofa.
Meanwhile, mom made her way to the kitchen to put away the food and snacks she had brought.
“Is your ankle any better?
I told you not to walk around too much,”
Papa asked, but I could barely catch his words.
My mind was too tangled up worrying about Ziff out there on the balcony, wondering how furious he might be right now.
“Panya, did you hear me?”
“Yes!?
What was that, dad?” I quickly turned to give him my full attention, flashing him a quick smile.
“Why are you wearing your uniform over that shirt, though?
Aren’t you hot?
You don’t have any classes today, do you?”
His question made me freeze instantly.
Oh no…
The kiss marks from that lunatic Ziff were still scattered all over my body.
Ahh.
Did Dad notice just now?
“Oh, my shirt buttons popped off, so I figured I’d fix it and just forgot to take it off,” I said, fumbling for an excuse while wiping the nervous sweat off my forehead.
Mom and dad both eyed me suspiciously, and I felt an enormous pit of dread.
I was not sure if dad was the kind to be protective, since he had never really shown it.
But maybe he had never needed to…
after all, no guy had ever shown interest in me before.
“Well, the place was very messy, so I just thought I’d tidy up a bit,” I added, swallowing hard.
Why was it so torturous to lie?
Even though I tried to act natural, I felt so stifled I could hardly breathe.
If only I could just walk over, open the curtains, and say, ’See that man on the balcony?
He was about to put on an X-rated show with me just for you, Papa…’
No, Panya.
What were you even thinking…
“Do you want to go see a doctor?” Dad asked, pulling my leg up to rest on his lap.
I wanted to pull it back, but it felt like the watchful eyes of a bloodthirsty wolf were on me.
No matter which way I turned.
It’s almost healed,”
I replied, but he would not take no for an answer.
Instead, he pulled over a first-aid kit to rewrap my bandages.
Right now, I felt like I was getting the flu—hot, then cold, with what felt like a very real spider-man lurking just a short distance away on my balcony.
And if dad spotted him, Ziff would be spider toast.
Dad might be over forty, but he was a master of both judo and aikido.
I was fairly sure he would be more than a match for a lean guy like Ziff.
The thought made my heart pound.
And seeing Mom head toward the vacuum to start cleaning made me swallow another gulp.
What do I do…?
If I say, ’Maybe not now, mom,’ they would both think I was completely crazy.
Mom always helped clean my place, after all.
But the closer she got to the balcony
Oh… I could feel my heart climbing up into my throat, ready to leap off my mouth.
“Wow, not much dust in here, huh, Panya?
Did you actually clean it yourself, dear!”
Of course, my place was spotless, lately—I had been practically living at Ziff’s place.
Whoosh…
My dear, sweet mom, Yaya, casually lifted the curtain.
God, if You help me survive this, I swear I would pray every night, and make offerings in both Buddhism and Christianity…
But it was too late.
My stunningly innocent mom was staring with her mouth wide open, just as Ziff looked totally dumbstruck out on the balcony.
Picture this: Mom’s eyes wide with shock, while Ziff stood there looking appalled, hugging himself and rubbing his arms and legs because of the chilly morning air.
Luckily, Dad was facing away from the balcony and did not see the would-be house lizard—er, Ziff—the human lizard plastered to the sliding glass door.
“Uh…
they have pretty big geckos at this apartment, don’t they?” Mom commented, laughing.
“What was that?”
Eep!
Dad spun around to look at her odd word, just as my sweet mom quickly dropped the curtain back down.
“Oh, nothing.
Just the cool air, isn’t it lovely?” she giggled, while I was on the verge of a heart attack.
Ah!
I swear my life expectancy just got shortened by at least ten years.
Mom turned to me with a smile, resuming her vacuuming as though nothing had happened.
I did not know what she thought of me right now, but I was a nervous wreck.
“Honey, I actually have a bit of work left to do.
I need to finish a manuscript today, so how about we head back now?”
I glanced up at dad, then at her
—she was really saying that…
“Huh, didn’t you say you were all caught up?” Dad had just finished wrapping my ankle and looked at her.
“Oh, you know how forgetful I am.
Why don’t you make Panya some food before we go?
I imagine she has a lot of research work lately.”
I clasped my hands together in gratitude, nodding and giving dad a pleading look.
He looked suspicious but did not ask questions, heading into the kitchen to make brunch for me.
Meanwhile, I turned to my mom, who was discreetly holding the curtain aside, waving at Ziff as if he were some rare animal in a traveling circus…
“Hi there.
Aren’t you cute.
Are you Panya’s husband!”
“Sob…
Mom…”
Once dad finished cooking, Mom quickly guided him out the door, even though he kept glancing back at me, clearly suspicious.
“Take care of your ankle, all right?
Don’t overdo it, or it’ll just hurt more later,” he said, concern evident in his voice.
I nodded, though my mind had drifted back to the balcony long ago.
I did not mean to act like this, but I could not calm down.
“Take care, Panya.”
“Yes, dad.”
And then mom leaned in, whispering to me quietly,
“So, is that Gecko Man your official?
He’s adorable.
Capture him, honey—I would love for him to call me Mom one day…”
Oh, God!
I wanted to scream.
Ziff must be the favorite of housewives everywhere.
A little wicked, a bit naughty, with a face like a Greek god, something like that.
“What are you whispering to her about, Yaya…”
“Nothing, dear.
Let’s get going.
I’ve got so much work to do.
Just dreadful,” she replied, taking his arm and hustling him out quickly.
I was not sure if I was dreaming, but I jumped up, raced to the balcony to unlock the door, and prepared myself to hear every sweet word Ziff was about to unleash.
“You…”
“I’m sorry!
Please don’t yell, or my Papa will hear.”
I limped to the glass door to open it for Ziff.
I could tell he was ready to let me have an earful. This chapter was taken from novelping.com without permission.
So, I dropped down into a kneeling position right in front of him and clasped my hands together in a begging gesture.
If this did not make him cool off, I did not know what would.
“You fool!
Your leg’s still hurt, isn’t it?” he barked, before storming straight into the kitchen.
Slowly, I got up, trying to keep my balance as I followed after him.
My leg was aching, and, of course, he did not spare me a single glance.
Of course…
given that he had already told me he was done caring.
He had meant it too, it seemed.
Then he did something that left me completely horrified: Ziff grabbed the water bottle sitting on the table and started to chug it.
“Aghh!
Ziff, you’re drinking my baby.” I screamed at the top of my lungs as he was about to swallow my chubby little goldfish.
Ziff pulled the bottle from his lips and looked down.
In an instant, he spat the water everywhere, nearly gagging as he went.
“I told you, didn’t I?
That’s my goldfish’s bottle!” I said, horrified as I rushed to snatch it from him.
Long story short, I had broken the original fishbowl and, until I could replace it, I put it left it in a bottle.
It was a wide-mouthed glass bottle, so I could put my little fish in.
Ziff knew this—I had warned him many times before.
He had almost swallowed my poor fish during another one of his drunken nights once.
But this time, he had swallowed nearly half the bottle!
“You!”
Ziff coughed, sputtering, looking like he was ready to vomit as he pulled the bottle away, spilling himself wet in the process.
His face flushed red as he looked at me with pure, simmering fury, ready to kill.
“I told you to buy a new fishbowl for these idiotic little goldfish of yours!
And look what happened—I nearly ate your baby!” he thundered, loud enough to deafen me.
With a growl, he yanked his damp clothes and stomped off toward the bedroom.
“Hey!
Where the hell is all my stuff?” he shouted moments later, possibly because he could not find his clothes.
“Panya…”
“I threw it all out,” I mumbled, busy replacing the water in my fish’s bottle that Ziff had gulped down.
“What did you just say?” His head popped out from the bedroom doorway, his tone going dangerously high, sounding ready to charge at me.
“You’re the one who said you didn’t care about me anymore.
And that day when my leg was hurt, you didn’t even look my way!”
My said, tears welling up.
How could he have been so heartless?
“Do you even realize how expensive those clothes were?
But that’s not the point!
Who gave you the courage to toss my stuff, huh!”
“Doesn’t matter now.
They’re gone…” I said nonchalantly, staying put in the kitchen, unmoving.
Ziff headed straight for the bathroom, probably to wash up since he was soaked from head to toe.
Served him right!
Taking advantage of the brief peace, I sat by my goldfish’s bottle, watching it drift around, trying to calm my nerves.
The reprieve did not last, though—suddenly, Ziff’s shout thundered from the bathroom.
Did this guy ever get tired of yelling?
Did his throat never hurt?
“Ugh!
You’re driving me up the wall today, Panya.”
The outburst barely fazed me; I was used to it by now.
I stayed put, no way I was going near his temper tantrum waiting to happen…
“Get over here, you clear soup girl!”
I scowled at his latest jab.
Clear soup girl again.
Hearing it often was starting to seriously bug me.
“My leg’s hurt.
I can’t walk over there.
If you have something to say, just yell it.
Your voice is loud enough anyway,” I muttered back, annoyed.
“Oh, so you’re talking back now, huh?
Fine… I’ll come haul you out here myself.
But trust me, there’ll be a price to pay, clear soup girl!”
That threat was enough.
I stood up and hobbled over to the bathroom with a grimace.
And there he was, barely dressed, with nothing but a white towel slung low around his waist, showing off a lean, unfairly attractive body.
It almost made me nosebleed.
I tried not to look at his body too much but failed.