[BL] CRAVING HIM: Addicted to His Voice-Chapter 326: A Painful Lesson in Forgiveness
~Evric’s POV~
I ran my hands through my hair, a wave of self-loathing washing over me. I regretted everything I had done.
"Rape? God, babe... I’m really done with these big, heavy accusations."
That word was still burning in my mind. I almost vowed I wouldn’t touch him again, but the love, the deep, frantic need for him, was overwhelming.
I quickly stripped off my clothes.
I knocked once, then followed Zayn into the bathroom, closing the door behind me. I wouldn’t let him push me away completely.
Zayn was already under the water, avoiding my gaze. He began his dramatic performance instantly, touching his lower back and waist with elaborate care.
"Oh! My waist!" he hissed softly, bending over and gingerly reaching for his backside. "And my butt is so painful, OMG. Everywhere."
I rushed to him, my guilt amplifying his pain tenfold. "Baby, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry."
As he touched his rear, I gently reached out, trying to examine the area for any actual tenderness.
The moment my hand got close, Zayn yelped, not in pain, but in surprise, and whipped his arm around, splashing my face with a handful of soapy water.
"Stop!" he accused, his eyes wide. "Are you trying to have sex with me again? I’m sore!"
I sputtered, wiping the soap from my eyes. "No! I am not! I was just checking on you, sweetheart. I wanted to see the area I hurt you."
He stared at me for a moment, deciding if I was lying. Finally, he gave a tiny, grudging nod. "Fine. But be gentle."
I ran the warm water over his back, carefully massaging the sore muscles in his lower back and shoulders. I paid extra attention to his backside, checking his skin with the utmost tenderness, offering silent apologies with every careful stroke.
After we finished rinsing, I dried him gently. I insisted on getting the soothing balm I carried.
"Let me put some oil on you, baby, or some gel," I murmured, rubbing the pain-relief cream into his waist and then carefully massaging his back, working out the knots from the long drive and the strain I’d put on him.
Zayn allowed the whole ritual, the drying, the oil, the massage, but he still didn’t speak a word of forgiveness.
I tried—God knows I tried. Gentle touches, quiet apologies, every ounce of regret I carried. Yet even when we were both fully dressed and ready to face his mother, he still wouldn’t soften. He still wouldn’t forgive me.
We walked out of the room. I felt like a chastened puppy following its master, but at least he was walking beside me. It was time to face his mother and the reality that I was in deep trouble with the man I loved most.
We reached the dining room where the delicious smell of his mother’s cooking filled the air.
I quickly took my seat. When it was Zayn’s turn to sit down, he hesitated, then lowered himself slowly onto the chair with an exaggerated, theatrical wince that was loud enough to carry across the room.
His mother, who was arranging dishes on the table, instantly looked up, panic flashing in her eyes. "Oh, Zayn! What happened? Are you hurt?"
Zayn turned toward me, his eyes glinting with mischief, like a devil enjoying every second of my panic.
My blood ran cold. I immediately jumped in, my voice laced with forced calm. "Mom, please don’t worry. It must just be the stress of the journey. The car ride was long, and he tends to sleep awkwardly."
I gave Zayn a frantic look. "I’m sure it’s not that bad. I promised I would help him massage his back later when we’re about to sleep."
Zayn’s mother’s expression softened. "Oh, my sweet boy. Thank you for taking such good care of my son, Evric."
The moment Zayn’s mother turned toward the kitchen sink to wash her hands, I leaned in close to Zayn, my voice a desperate whisper. "Please, baby, don’t do this to me. Please, just forgive me. Please, baby."
Zayn looked at me with an expression of pure, smug enjoyment. He scoffed softly, the sound barely audible.
"This," he whispered dramatically, a triumphant glint in his eye, "is just the beginning."
He then reached down and touched his butt again, making a small, pained sound just as his mother turned back with a pitcher of water.
"Are you sure you’re okay, darling?" she asked Zayn.
"Oh, yes, Mom," Zayn said sweetly, shooting me a pointed glance. "Evric here was just very thorough with the luggage. My poor back is still feeling it."
I quickly cleared my throat and gave his mom a wide, overly enthusiastic smile. "Yes, Mom! He insisted on carrying all the heaviest bags himself!"
Zayn’s mother frowned at Zayn. "Sorry, son. Next time, if you can’t carry it, just carry what your strength allows, okay?"
"Okay, Mom," Zayn agreed meekly.
He then looked at me and smirked, deliberately stretching his back and wincing one last time before reaching for the water pitcher.
I quickly snatched the pitcher, poured a glass for him, and handed the cup to him before he could execute any more dramatics.
"Thank you, Evric," he said, that sweet tone grating on my nerves. 𝚏𝕣𝐞𝗲𝐰𝕖𝐛𝐧𝕠𝕧𝚎𝚕.𝐜𝚘𝗺
Zayn’s mother soon joined us at the table, and we began the meal. I made sure to be overly complimentary.
"Mom," I said genuinely, savoring the rich flavor, "this food is incredible. It truly is delicious. No wonder Zayn is such a good chef; he learned from the best."
"Oh, thank you, dear," she beamed. "You two eat up. You need to put some weight back on Zayn, he looks too thin."
We chatted about general things, the weather, the drive, and the local news. The conversation was easy and comfortable, the way it always was when I was here, save for the silent, looming threat sitting directly across from me.
After we finished eating, Zayn started to reach for his plate, but I quickly intervened. "No, no, baby. Let me get that. You rest your back."
I efficiently cleared the table and brought the dishes to the kitchen.
Once the plates were cleared, we settled back down with Zayn’s mother. The conversation shifted to business.
"So, Evric," Zayn’s mom began. "How is work? Everything running smoothly with the new contracts?"
I kept my answer simple and controlled. "Yes, Mom. Everything is moving along fine."
Then, it was Zayn’s turn. "And you, darling? How are things at the restaurant now that you’ve been expanding?"
Zayn sighed dramatically, resting his head back and looking toward the ceiling as if gathering the strength to speak.
Before he could utter a word, I had already grabbed my phone beneath the table and quickly typed a message.
E: I will do anything for you, babe. Can you please stop acting like this?
Zayn glanced down at his own phone, read the text, and then typed his reply, a slow smile spreading across his face.
Z: Anything, right?
E: Yes, sweetheart. Anything you want.
Zayn put his phone down and turned back to his mother. "Everything is fine, Mom," he said simply. "Most especially, Evric is...
