(Unedited.)

"His lips are dripping honey but he'll sting you like a bee"
-Good Girl, Carrie Underwood

I stab the same piece of chicken for the fifth time. Zayn's stare is burning a hole in my head and I can't find the courage to look at him. I know he will give me a confused look and demand answers as to why I'm acting like this. Answers to something I have no clue about or control over.

"Madison," his smooth voice rings through my ears and I sigh. I look at him waiting for him to speak again. "Why aren't you eating? Is there something wrong with the food?"

"No, it's fine," I answer. "I'm just not hungry."

"I thought you only ate crackers?"

"I did, but I ate a lot," I lie.

"Right, well I'm already full so let's just leave. I'd like to show you something," he says before asking for the bill.

We are soon back in his car as he drives. Where to? I don't know, but I do know I don't care. He has been really nice to me tonight and I don't want to ruin that by asking too many questions. Questions, in which could wait.

I lightly hum to the radio and rest my face on my hand. My elbow is against the door supporting it all. Zayn's car is really fancy and looks expensive along with everything else he owns. I don't know much about Zayn but the things I do know are quite fascinating. He really is a mystery, he never opens up about anything.

I wonder what made him so cold and close off. Surely, he couldn't have always been like this. I wonder if he has ever been in love or is passionate over something silly. I wonder what makes him smile at the simplest reminder of that thing and what he was like as a kid. If he has ever had a quirky obsession and what his favorite thing to eat is. All these things and so much more wanders through my mind as he drives.

Soon Zayn's calls my name and we both get out of the car. As we walk towards a lit up building he laces his fingers with mine. I smile and a group of butterflies erupt in my stomach at this kind gesture. I like this Zayn, I like him a lot. He is actually acting like a normal person tonight and I can't help but want more.

We walk into the building and he leads me to a door that leads to the stair case. I smile a little, glad I don't have to go in an elevator, especially with Zayn again. He may be acting nicer and I may not show it but he still scares me. He has abused, left me in dangerous situations, and been completely rude to me. But just as much as he scares me he makes me feel safe from everyone else.

"Where are we going?" I ask him as we walk up the fifth flight of stairs.

"We're almost there," he says and walk up one more flight of stairs before unlocking a door and letting me go in first.

"Whoa," I mumble as I look around the room we entered. It's gigantic and the farthest wall has multiple floor to ceiling windows. The sight is of down town London and it's breathtaking. The furniture is white leather and glass tables. This place is the definition of rich and fancy.

"This is where I grew up," Zayn says and I turn to face him.

"It's beautiful," I announce.

"I agree, too bad no one will ever get to enjoy it," he mumbles the last part.

"So," I say. "What are we doing here?"

"Sit," he motions for me to but with him on the couch. "And we are going to talk."

"About what?" I ask, facing him.

"Us," he simply says. "We've known eachother about two months, slept with eachother twice, yelled and fought with eachother and while we know little things about eachother we don't know much."

"I agree," I nod.

"So tell me something about you," he demands.

"From Colorado, 19 years old, sophomore in college-"

"Stuff I don't already know." he interrupts me.

"Well I miss my family life crazy, I'm hoping to see them for Christmas," I tell him. "I'd love to go for Thanksgiving, but I have to work."

"You could always ask for time off," he tells me.

"Yeah," I mumble not knowing what else to say. "So tell me about you."

"There's nothing to tell," he shrugs.

"Yes there is," I counterbacks.

"What do you want to know?" he asks. I think for a moment before coming up with a question.

"This might sound pathetic, but why do you hate me?" I ask and immediately look down.

"What?" I hear the shock in his voice.

"Who do you hate me?" I repeat and look at him. He has a look of disbelief and guilt mixed in his expression.

"I don't hate you," he states, but I don't believe him.

"Yes, you do," I insist. "You're always so rude to me. You've hurt me. All the people in my life who have hurt me always ended up hating me."

"Maddi," he takes in a deep breath. "I'm not a nice person. I don't hate you and I'm sorry for all the things I've done to you."

"Zayn," I sigh. "I know you aren't actually sorry. I've heard you apologize many of times and I watched you break your promises. I'm use to it."

"Wait, what?" he asks.

"I'm not a fragile little girl. You've showed me that it's not safe."

"What's not safe?"

"You. Trusting you. Liking you, everything about you." I admit.

"What are you saying? That I'm not trustworthy?" he is obviously offended.

"No," I shake my head. "It's just like you have some type of vengeance towards me. You'll always hurt me."

Zayn looks into my eyes as if he is trying to read what I'm feeling. He looks guilty, but then some sort of relief flashes through his eyes. He licks his lips and leans back. His eyes never leaving mine. I look at him waiting for him to do something or say something.

After a few minutes of silence he suddenly is on top of me. My back is pressed against the couch and his chest is connected with mine. My breathing hitches and he licks his lips again. His face is a mere inch or two away from mine. I gulp harshly when his breath fans across my face.

"If I'm so dangerous," he whispers. "Why are you still here? Why do you keep on talking to me?"

"I don't know," I honestly whisper back. "There's something about you."

Zayn smirks and begins whispering again, "There's something about you too. I hate to admit it and trust me I truly do, but you intrigue me Madison. I just can't get enough of you."

"Zayn," I breathe.

"Toots," he breathes back and he begins to slowly lean in.

He doesn't rush it like any of the other time and when our lips meet its like a bomb went off in my stomach. Our kiss is full of passion, but isn't rough like any of the other ones we shared. This kiss is full of intimacy and although it's full of hunger, it's not just lust.

I tangle my hand in his hair and pull him closer to me. One of his hand is pressed against my cheek and the other hand is holding himself up so he doesn't crush my body with his weight. It feels like everything else in the world disappeared and it just me and him. And no matter how cheesy it may sound it's true.

______

Twitter: @ZLNLH0009

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