stars and terrain (zayn malik)

Chapter 7

Charlotte 

I stack the boxes of In-N-Out and masterfully lead Zayn out the door of the SUV.

“Keep them closed.”

 He obeys, but he smiles and it’s the open-mouthed kind that has become my favorite.

“Wait here just one second,” I instruct the driver. I’m going to need to come back for our drinks. He nods and has yet to notice the celebrity he was driving, or just doesn’t care. It’s refreshing. Many a driver has asked for a picture while I’ve been with him, so I can’t imagine how much it happens on a daily basis.

I turn my attention back to the beautiful boy with a black Yankees cap obscuring his very famous, very perfect head of hair. His eyes are still squeezed shut and his hand reaches out for me when I momentarily let go to readjust the boxes of food.

Since he can’t see me, I take a minute to really take him in. Skinny black jeans, a black sweater and black sneakers make up a pretty basic outfit. But on his long, thin frame it looks better than any male model I’ve ever worked with.

We’re almost the same height when he wears a hat, his hair usually sticks up much higher and makes him seem taller. There's something impossibly cute about that, it's nice to be eye level with someone who seems to be on different levels when it comes to everything else.

“Alright, follow me, walk slow,” I walk backwards, leading him carefully up the hill to the exact bench I had hoped would be open.

It’s the most secluded one, underneath a huge tree, with a telescope close by and a perfect view of the Hollywood sign. Once I set everything on the bench I put my hands on his shoulders and point him in the right direction.

“Open them!”

It’s one of the best views in LA I've ever seen. A bench outside the Griffith Observatory I happened upon on a hike that I didn’t want to be on with Alli a few months ago.

My first thought had been “Zayn would like this view” and it was one of the first times I realized I might have it way worse for him than I thought.

And now I’m here with him. And his self proclaimed favorite burger in the world. On the most perfect Southern California night, where it’s January and you don’t even need a jacket.

He doesn’t say anything at first so I nervously turn to check his expression.

It’s adorable. He whispers a wow as his eyes pan over to me and he crosses the space between us, his lips find mine. It’s short and sweet and through mirrored smiles.

“Thank you,” he says against my mouth. “This is perfect.”

I smile and break us apart. “We should eat before the food gets cold.”

“Right,” he nods, turning to the bench.

“Shit!” I exclaim, taking off towards where I’ve left the driver before I explain to Zayn where I’m going. He’s been waiting with the drinks and I apologize before grabbing them and sending him off. 

I walk back to the bench to find Zayn laughing at me.

“What?” I ask, sitting down while taking a sip of my soda. "I almost forgot the drinks."

“You’re cute,” he says simply, his smile so bright I almost want to look away. I don’t, but this is going to make tomorrow that much harder.

“Thanks,” I shrug off the compliment. “You’re not that awful looking.”

“Thanks,” he replies, taking a bite of his burger, smile still intact. How is that bone structure real? Everything is so sharp and angled so perfectly.

He’s definitely prettier than me.

“I’ve been meaning to come here,” he says softly, words running together and sounding so gentle in his accent.

“I figured. You being an astronomer and all,” I tease, popping a fry in my mouth.

He smiles at that, recalling the first day we met.

“I really would be an astronomer. You know, if I wasn’t doing, well, what I do.”

“I think the money’s better in your business,” I hedge with a grin.

“Probably.” He glances wistfully back out at the city, looking on fire from lights and my eyes catch on his perfect jawline. I can’t believe I get to look at him this close in person.

“But I think astronomers get to stay put for a while.”

I contemplate this for a minute. I assume almost anyone would trade places with him in a minute, for the money and the fame, but I never considered how strange it would be to not really have a home.

“What do you consider home base?”

“I have a place in New York,” he replies. 

I nod. I always found it odd he didn’t have a place out here, especially with how often he had been visiting.

“I hate New York,” he adds. “But it made the most sense. Between here and England.”

“Logical,” I nod. I wish he’d get a place here. Not that it would make things change between us, it just might be nice to not have to sneak into hotels.

“I've been meaning to get a place here.”

He must be reading my mind.