One Night (Book 1) - Zayn Malik

Chapter 49

Don't Kick the Chair - Dia Frampton

Sweet Disposition - The Temper Trap

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I wake up in a room full of light. I stare out the window I'm facing, it's cloudy out but the sun is bright enough to illuminate past the clouds. I take a deep breath, stretching out my muscles.

I was at Zayn's house - that much was clear. The windows and open room gives me that. So last night really did happen, it wasn't some strange dream. I smile and roll over to find the bed empty. I slowly sit up and look around Zayn's room. I didn't pay attention to his room last night - I had never been in his room at his aunt's house.

It's large, very simple. There are windows lining one side of the wall as the rest are plain. There's a desk and a chair, some papers scattered across the desk - as usual. Of course there's his large bed witht he dark gray comforter on it, but other than that the room is quite empty and I assume it's because he doesn't spend much time here. I leave the room and look around the rest of the house, not a noise anywhere.

"Zayn?" I call out. Did he leave in the midst of the night? Was I completely alone in the house? I find my way to the stairs that lead to the main room. Going down the cold wooden stairs I hear someone cooking in the kitchen.

At least his aunt was home. I wonder where Zayn had gone? I pull my hair to the side and walk towards the kitchen. Surprisingly for such a large open house with lots of windows the house is warm, but the wooden floor is freezing.

As I near I slowly stop, Zayn's back is towards me as he is cooking eggs on the stove. I look around the living room, my eyes stopping on the large wall of windows.

The view was still as gorgeous as I remember from the first time. Trees everywhere, a slight view of the city. I smile at the view, his house was utterly beautiful, it's the type of house I would want to eventually own when I start a family.

"You're awake." I jump at the voice and turn back to Zayn who looks at me over his shoulder. He chuckles and shakes his head at my startled reaction.

"Yeah." I breathe walking towards him. He's still shirtless, wearing only sweatpants. I walk into the kitchen where he turns off the stove and shoves the food onto two plates.

"You cooked?" I ask with a smile on my face. He turns to me with the two plates. He looks like a model, sweatpants on - no shirt, his tattoos designed along his chest and arms, and that light scar on his chest. I really hope that isn't from his father, this was no time to go digging into that.

"Yeah." He nodded. "Isn't that what couples do?" He asks, I can see the flash of worry that he had messed up on his face. Couples did that... just not newly developed couples, but I didn't mind one bit he cooked for us. It was endearing to see he was attempting to be a couple.

"Yeah, no I just... thank you." I stumble to find my words. I take a step towards him and take the plate from his hand, his eyes flood with relief as I lead the way to the table. We sit down next to each other at the large mahogany table.

I smile at the plate with toast and eggs on it. The gesture was enough to make me melt right there. I take a bite of the food and it's surprisingly good - for some reason I didn't expect Zayn to be able to cook.

"Is it good?" He asks, taking a bite of his food.

"It's great." I nod with a smile plastered on my face. He smiles as he looks down at his food. He reaches his hand across and rests it on my thigh, giving it a tight squeeze as we eat in comfortable silence.

This is so strange, a good strange, being in a state of mind where I know we are together. That he likes me, that I'm not a game, that he's not off with some other girl. Trust was slowly building - I could feel it in my body.