Coloured Hearts || Zayn Malik

Maybe

They were playing that day, at a local park Lauren thought Zayn would enjoy. They thought they'd be playing around with both their families and friends with a bit of exploring. There was though; there were laughs and the occasional scraped knee and wet summer dress here and there. But there was more to that outing they expected.

They sat alone together, with the unforgiving waves crashing against the shore, kissing its feet then washing away in a moment's notice. Yet in this terrain, there were flowers growing in the grooves of unmatching, grassy patches which served as a cool alternative to the scorching sand beneath bare feet. The sun which usually made a slow descent behind the mountains, seemed to slow, wishing to watch the moments unfurling beneath her glow.

He traced the outline of her body with intense tenderness, in silent awe. Her hair fanned out delicately around the contours of her lightly painted face which wore a blissful expression. Zayn smiled, he could hear her heart beating restlessly, not unlike his own. It did that sometimes- his heart. Beat a bit faster at the sight of her, whether it be physically or in a picture, or when he heard her voice, it beat quick. He used to scoff at the idea, love, a childish notion. But now, it was different. Zayn's heart knew what his mind didn't.

Lauren was tracing his tattoos. She made loops and swirls and patterns against the bright colours which matched his soul perfectly. He placed gentle, mindless kisses on her forehead and top of her head. A year they've been dating, but she still got goosebumps when the slightest breath of his met her bare skin. Her nose nudged against his and she let out a breathy laugh at the intake of breath he took. Her heart beat a little bit faster. It did that sometimes; well, most of the time. Her heart; her carefully guarded heart, decided to skip, at first, she swatted the notion away, but then, her heart beats would bang furious and unforgiving at the locked doors she hid behind. Yet, with the tell tale signs acceptance would not come. Lauren's heart knew what her mind didn't.

With the sound of her heart beating, his thoughts drifted swiftly to his future. The future of the band, her, his family, her family, sketches, her, their family, her.

His hand stopped its motion and gently stilled at the route his thoughts have taken. He needs her. He needs her in his life, he needs to wake up to her in the morning, morning breath, bed head and all. He wants a long run; no, he wants the whole fucking marathon. He wants her to be a part of his life, for a long time- forever even. He needs her.

No.

He loves her.

With the stillness of his hand, Lauren snuggled deeper into his chest, him, placing another absentminded kiss to the top of her head. She could do this forever, she thought. She wants him. She wants cheesy texts and morning kisses. She wants impromptu flights and cliché walks in sheets of rain. She wants unscheduled, unrehearsed declarations of adoration. She wants him in her life always.

No.

She loves him.

Maybe it was the sun, the hot rays beating relentlessly under his mildly sunscreen covered skin. Maybe it was the one beer he had or the food he ate or the scent of the ocean. Or maybe it was her dress which hit her curves in just the right way, or maybe it was the way she curled her hair the night before. Perhaps it was her smell, more intoxicating than any amount of alcohol he's consumed. Maybe it was nothing.

But what wasn't a semblance of "maybe" was what he mumbled incoherently into her hair.

"I love you."

She froze and looked into his eyes, and finding no trace of dishonesty, she didn't hesitate.

Maybe it was the flowers, or the screaming children a little bit aways, maybe it was the familiar atmosphere or the sun that was creeping slowly yet surely along the mountainside. Maybe it was the way his eyes bore into hers with no expectations. Maybe it was his hand which seemed to fit perfectly on her hip or maybe it was his necklace which seemed to jump with every breath he took. Maybe it was the idea of love.

"I love you, too." she whispered.

Their eyes met for a fraction of a second, both pairs speaking the words they have shared not a minute before. With no warning, his lips tentatively reached down to brush hers in the gentlest of kisses. Though the kiss was chaste, it was the most heated kiss they have ever shared.

There were no maybes in that kiss.

AN. HAPPY BIRTHDAY LAUREN