Neon Red [Order The eBook] [Zayn]

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(DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. It's important to remember this is all totally fabricated, embellished, and exaggerated for entertainment purposes.)

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"I'd do anything for you...in the dark."

Frank Ocean - Siegfried 

"I slept with someone," he changed the subject. My chopping slowed. I glanced to him briefly before fixing my eyes firmly on the cutting board.

"Oh yeah...who's dat?"

"Doesn't matter, to be honest...she wasn't you."

"Then... okay...why'd youh even tell me?? What was the purpose of that, exactlyh?" I struggled to sound patient. "Why'd youh bring it up?"

"I dunno...I feel like I need to answer to you or something."

"C'mon, Haz."

"M'serious, Zayn. As a heart attack. I just can't shake the impulse of, uh, wanting your approval for everything I do lately..."

"How's that?"

"I dunno, mate..." he grew quiet, scraping around the bottom of the carton for the last trace of ice cream. "Sometimes you make me feel unconfident and unsure..." I set the knife aside and turned to face him.

"Soh...youh want me to approve of the people youh sleep with or sumthin'?' I cocked a brow at him. He just nodded, looking down and toying with the spoon. I snatched both out of his hands and set them aside.

"Who is she?" I demanded calmly.

"A food blogger."

"Well...youh like her?"

"She's alright." He somehow managed to shrug with his mouth, forcing the corners of his lips downward. 

"Just alright? How'd youh even meet?"

"Friend of a friend. The usual," he leaned back onto his hands, swinging his bare feet again.

"Soh...youh doing a whole thing with this one or just messin' around a bit?" I moved to open a bottle of red wine to cook with.

"Just messing around for now. M'thinking of making it official, trying to see it through for a while. It depends on how she takes the publicity once we go...well... public."

"She cute?"

"Yeah..."

"She a good girl?"

"Yeah..."

"She a good lay?"

"Yeah," he chuckled. 

"Well, what's there to disapprove of, then?" He finally looked over and met my eyes.

"I want you to yell at me."

"Why, babe? I don't wanna do that. I kinda like youh," I smiled reassuringly. 

"Sometimes I just think about how good it would feel to upset you. Wait, wait, I know that sounds fucked up. Fuck's sake, mate. M'sorry...hear me out!" He grabbed my wrist. 

"Alright, goh. Explain yerself."

"I want you to, like...be jealous of her, but I know you know I'll never, uh, feel the same way about anyone else as I do you." His husky English drawl was a comforting sound as the day grew later; no matter what he was saying. It reminded me of autumn in the UK when it'd get dark early and he and I would fall asleep in front of the fire. It felt like I'd lived a hundred different lives with him.