Punk One Direction One Shots

Zayn for Bri

There was something magical about the boy that lived in the apartment across the hall. Or at least that’s what Bri thought. Bri loved the handsome boy that lived in apartment 6B and wore his hair in a quiff and got a new tattoo every week. There was something compelling in his cheek bones. His scruff caused primitive hormones to pound through her body.

Zayn was his name. Zayn Malik. And she only knew this because she took his mail. Well, she didn’t take it because that’s illegal, and she definitely didn’t want to go to jail and explain why she did it, the hot guy across the hall. She sweetly offered to collect the stranger’s mail when, unfortunately, his girlfriend left him. Drowned in alcohol and with Mary Jane on his mind, Bri took him the mail for a week. Whether he remembered or not, didn’t matter, she was taking it as a step in the right direction.

Bri left the comfort of her flat and stepped out into the hall. Her mind was spinning with school, family, friends, Zayn, work, Zayn, how the Fault in Our Stars ended, Zayn, Zayn, and more of Zayn. With ear buds in, and tea in hand, she trekked up the stairs-the elevator was out due to Zayn’s idiot friends and something about a chemistry project that involved meth and combustion- to the roof.

The roof of the complex was quite nice, when you get over the stench of the alcohol, and the possibility that something was living in the corner. The London sky was dotted with stars that illuminated the roof just enough to see the outline of another person up there. Just from the broad shoulders Bri could tell it who it was.

“Hey Zayn.” She greeted not wanting to sound too excited to see him, but not indifferent either.

He turned a smile squinting his face. “Hello babe.” Babe, he called her babe. That hadn’t happened before, and she didn’t know how to respond.

“The stars are pretty aren’t they?” Bri could hit herself for saying that. How stupid?

“I could think of someone that’s prettier than they are.” Bri just about threw herself off the top of the building.

“I bet they think you’re pretty handsome yourself.” She bantered joining him.

She noticed his shaking hands. She noticed how they reached inside his jacket for a cigarette, his pants for a lighter. There was something beautiful, though, in watching him cup his hands around the flames, as he bit down on the butt of the cigarette.

“I bet she’d also rather not have you do that.” She chattered through the sharp cold air.

“I don’t mean too. It’s always been there for me. Kind of like she is. She doesn’t know it though, but I know when she leaves every morning. I know that she got my mail voluntarily. I know she hated my girlfriend. I know that she wants me and would gladly stay the night in my flat some time.”

Bri and Zayn were flushing with heat from embarrassment. “I think I know who she is.” Bri mumbled leading into his shoulder trying to control herself.

“I think she wants you to kiss her.” She baited. “I think she wants to hang out with you, I think she wants to be able to say, “Hey this is my boyfriend.”” She continued.

“I think he’d like to kiss her aswell.” Zayn mumbled turning his head slightly. He stomped out the glowing embers tucking the cigarette behind his ear as he blew the smoke away from her. With steady hands, he pulled her by the hips to his chest.

His plump lips molded to Bri’s. Their lips twisted and turned together while hands traveled down to latch on and grab.

Zayn tore his lips of hers, moving to pucker up and down her cheeks. “So, this Friday, my place or yours?”

“Doesn’t-ah-matter.” She choked back as he nipped her neck.

“Mine, I know you want to. I’m just glad you won’t be silently stalking me anymore.” Bri punched him before lacing her arms with his.

There was a positive road lying ahead between the two and they curled around each other, the stars lit them just enough to see the joy inside each other.