Changes | z.m.

Chapter 26

Eve's POV

I couldn't sleep. It was our second day of traveling in the tour bus, night time to be exact. Probably a few hours past midnight, and I was absolutely desperate for a big plate of chicken.

Along with a special bed covered in my favorite color, Zayn had ordered me a whole drawer of food for when I had a craving. It was filled with everything you could possibly imagine, except for chicken. I groaned, resting my hands on my massive bump. My attempts to close my eyes and distract myself from my craving failed, and I was starting to get irritated and antsy. I knew exactly what I needed to do.

I pulled the yellow curtain back, revealing a dark area where six particularly attractive men slept, each dozing off in their own bunks. I tiptoed as quietly as possible over to Zayn's bunk, thankfully the nearest one to mine. Peeling back his own curtain, I teetered on my heels as my craving took a hold of me.

"Zayn." I whispered frantically. "Please wake up."

As per usual, I got no response other than the light sounds of breathing coming from his slightly parted lips.

I made an executive decision and started to shake Zayn's shoulder rapidly while whispering for him to wake up directly into his ear. "Zayn, wake up."

Thankfully, he started to stir around in his bed, a good sign that he was starting to wake up. "Zayn." I repeated. "Wake up. I need you." I jolted his shoulder a little harder as I pictured exactly what I wanted to be eating.

Finally, my pestering as enough for him and he opened his eyes and sat up. "What's wrong?" He asked worriedly.

"I'm really craving chicken right now." I told him, feeling slightly embarrassed. "And we don't have any."

He sighed and hopped out of bed, pulling a tee shirt on over his bare torso, a sight that was almost distracting me from my need for chicken. "Okay, I don't know what kind of chicken you want." He whispered. "But lucky for you I'm a great cook and chicken is my specialty. We have some that's uncooked in the fridge."

"We do?" I raised my eyebrows.

Zayn nodded, taking my hand and leading me though the moving bus to the kitchen. "We need to be quiet so no one wakes up." He warned me.

"Thank you Zayn, so much." I smiled lightly, but then remembered what I craved. "Okay I want it to be lemony and grilled, I don't really know how else to describe it." I told him.

"Got it. You wait over there. It'll be ready soon." He pointed to the couch in the next section over where I could stretch my legs out and be comfortable. My mind was filled with chicken and lemons. I wish they had Nando's in America so Zayn wouldn't have to cook food for me basically from scratch.

I was completely out of it, which was reasonable considering it was the middle of the night, but I couldn't think straight. It almost felt like a lucid dream or something, the kind where you can't really tell if you're asleep or awake. "Zayn." I groaned impatiently as I heard him turn the stove on and pour oil on the pan. Bless him for cooking for me in the middle of the night, especially someone who had the patience of a two year old.

"Just wait a few more minutes." He whispered back. "I'm going as fast as I can."

Alluring aromas of the food I'd been so desperate for filled my nostrils as faint sounds of the frying pan working away to cook the chicken started to fade away until the room was silent. That meant my food was ready.

"You're perfect." I told Zayn as he handed me a plate full of lemony chicken and a fork. "Absolutely perfect."

He chuckled, not replying, and sat down on the couch with me as I dug into the food like a pig would. But honestly, it was almost better than Nando's. "Mmm, this is so good."