stars and terrain (zayn malik)

Chapter 17

Charlotte

I hate having him here. I hate the juxtaposition of this run down room holding someone so perfect in it. I don’t mind him looking at my things. I don’t mind that in minutes he’s noticed my alphabetical ordered books and movies.

But I mind the way his eyes appraised the dirty hallways and the size of my bathroom. I don’t like the way his eyes twinge and how he looks like he’s feeling sorry for me.

I’m waiting for the shoe to drop. I’m waiting for him to realize I’m from a very different world, and to realize this will only work for so long.

I was hoping he wouldn’t come up, but the exterior of the building might be worse than the inside. Leaving him outside in my neighborhood didn’t seem like a great plan either. I hadn’t mentioned the occasional drug deal I’ve spotted on the corner where we parked, or how the homeless people spill over from the drug store on the corner and set up shop in our parking lot.

So he came in and now I’m trying to get him out and he wants to come back and spend the night.

I succeed in getting him back in the hallway and lock up behind us.

“You noticed my bed is a full, right?” I ask, hiding my discomfort with humor. “You toss and turn so much in your sleep, you’ll definitely end up on the floor.”

He stops two stairs below me and turns, looking up at me with dark eyes. “I want to stay here, Charlie.”

I don’t correct him on my name. I’m done correcting him. Charlie won. And the intensity in his eyes prevents me from fighting him on this. 

“Okay,” I sigh, closing my eyes. I just want to get out of here. I step down to his stair, grab his hand and lead him the rest of the way out. I still need to stop at my car. Fuck. That means he’ll see my car. This is all so embarrassing.

I drop his hand and hope he doesn’t follow me into the parking lot, but of course he does. And of course two homeless men have set up in an empty space next to my car and they heckle me as I quickly grab a pair of sunglasses from my front seat.

I can’t fully read his expression when he reaches my side but it looks really unhappy and I wish my car locked with the press of a button so I could get away faster but I have to turn the key in the lock before I go back to our waiting SUV.

To be honest, I don’t really notice the neighborhood anymore. I’ve been here for years. But to others – outsiders who are millionaire celebrities - I realize it must look really rough.

Wordlessly he follows behind me, and slides into the backseat next to me before shutting the door behind us.

“Changing your mind about staying tonight?” I attempt to lighten the mood, but he seems to be holding his tongue. 

“No,” he says quickly. He’s tapping in his phone before rattling off the address of the first house.

God, we’re going from my studio to a mansion.

“I don’t care where you live, Charlie,” he reassures me, reaching over and squeezing my knee before running his hand up and down my thigh. “I mean it.”

“I think we should stay at the hotel,” my voice sounds a lot calmer than I feel.

“Real life,” he reminds me.

“Real life is the problem. Our real lives are in two different worlds. You’re going to realize that and you’re going to-”

He cuts me off by scooting closer and kissing me. His lips are warm and I let myself stop thinking and kiss him back.